


Home

by aceofhearts88



Series: Howling at the Stars [13]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arthur gets to show if he has gotten rusty yet, Dorne, F/M, Jon is not a fan, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Meraxes the lizard, Oberyn finally learns the whole truth, Starfall, Torrhen is the best big brother, Volantis, Water Gardens, and reacts differently than what Arthur expects, at all, coming home, ship voyages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-09 02:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12267129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofhearts88/pseuds/aceofhearts88
Summary: Volantis throws Essos into war, the days of peaceful hiding in exile are counted and over. The path leads home, back home to Dorne, but before they can get there Arthur has to fight to keep his family alive long enough to see the harbor.And across the sea, family and friends are worried with no way of getting any news.





	1. Home - Preface - Starfall

**Author's Note:**

> turned this into a mini fic instead of a really long oneshot

Eyrin Dayne had been Lady of Starfall since not even two moons after her wedding her goodfather had been killed by a pirate raid on his ship. Lord Beric Dayne had been travelling to Sunspear to attend a council with the Princess of Dorne.

It was fortunate that her marriage had been one of love despite having been arranged, otherwise Eyrin feared their beginning years might have been a disaster. As it was Andric and her had clicked together like armor pieces, had carried the weight together and grown stronger under it. 

But despite how well she knew her husband, despite how much she had been welcomed by her new family from the first day of the betrothal announcement, Eyrin knew that she could never even touch onto the loyalty the four Dayne siblings had for each other. She herself had grown up with two older brothers at Salt Shore, but neither had ever shown any interest in the little sister, they had been fostered with other Lords before Eyrin had even learned to walk.

They could just as well be strangers to her.

The Dayne siblings had been separated for most of their forming young years as well, but in the end it had changed nothing for them. Andric loved his younger siblings fiercely, protectively and unending, he could say something had been the last straw in their actions and still he would never truly do something to cut them out of the family name. 

Allyria had been three when her father had died and her mother had fallen into grief, only to be killed not three years later as well. Andric had already been Allyria's whole world before that, and by the time Lady Eleana had been sent back to the sea and the stars, the young girl of only six had been more Eyrin's daughter than she had been her good-sister. They had grown close over the years, and though she called her sister, Eyrin knew that Allyria saw more of a mother figure in her and it warmed her heart.

But it was still Andric who Allyria had toddled after from the first day her mother had spent her days locked in her chambers. Andric who was constantly followed, watched, observed. Andric who was prompted again and again to pick her up and then set her down again. So often Eyrin had found her husband in his then new solar, going through reports, getting familiar with the work his father had still thought to have time to introduce him fully to, and on his lap his little sister had slept.

Ashara, beautiful wild Ashara who could have had every man in the Seven Kingdoms, who had every head turn as she passed by, and who had ever only truly cared about the opinion of one man. Her older brother. So often Eyrin had heard him curse about his sister's wildness, about her too big love for life, but it had only ever been because he had been afraid she would get hurt. No thought ever to shame for House Dayne, Andric hadn't cared about that.

Eyrin remembered still how Andric had kept himself awake long into the night to watch over his older younger sister after the Tiroshi assassins had killed Eleana and injured both her daughters. Ashara had suffered terrible nightmares and Andric had fought on all sides, during the day to get the assassins found and brought to justice, and during the night against invisible foes to soothe his sister's nightmares. 

And then he had to let her go to King's Landing, into the nest of rats and he had worried so often, worried and worried. When Ashara returned after Harrenhall, her stomach swollen with child already, banned from court, Eyrin had feared what would happen to this strong-willed beautiful woman. Andric had not. Andric had curled himself around her like the protective snake he could be sometimes and had made it clear to everyone that dishonored or not, Starfall was Lady Ashara's home and she would be treated with the respect honored by it.

And Arthur.

Oh, Arthur. Sweet wonderful Arthur.

There was not going to be a day where Eyrin would not remember her husband's fury when Prince Consort Elion – Eyrin's own great-uncle – had forced his hand in shoving Arthur into the Kingsguard to fulfill the King's demands without having to send Prince Oberyn's temper to King's Landing.

Brothers were close, even if people didn't assume it about Andric and Arthur, they had grown up apart, learned apart but it never stopped them from being brothers. Andric was protective over him, even more so than over his sisters. Allyria and Ashara were stubborn and sharp witted, Arthur wasn't wasn't weak in any way just sweet where his siblings could be toxic. He was quiet where his siblings were loud and hot-tempered.

The Rebellion had been horrible, so many people had died, so many people this family of hers had ties to, people her old family had ties to. Prince Rhaegar, Prince Lewyn and all the men who had gone to fight with him, cousins of hers had died with them at the Trident. Princess Elia and her children, that had been impossible to swallow. Ashara and Eyrin had spent nights crying, inconsolable in their pain. 

And then Arthur. A broken shattered soul who had fallen to his knees the second he had seen his brother in his home, knowing that Andric would be able to put together what he couldn't hold onto anymore.

Nothing would ever come between those four, Eyrin knew it in the very blood of her body.

And luck to those who intended to dare and threaten one of them, they would need it.

\--

Volantis, not dead.

She spoke those words often to Andric in the first few weeks after they had watched the ship sail off with Arthur, Ashara and the children on board.

Volantis, not dead.

She said when Andric showed her the letter from Winterfell with the new Lord Stark's inquiry to have his younger brother squire in Starfall. Benjen would become a part of their family, almost a son like Allyria was almost a daughter, but at first they had been more than suspicious.

Volantis, not dead.

She reminded Andric and Allyria when the King they despised took a Lannister bride and both siblings were raging, Benjen watching them with his quiet nature.

Volantis, not dead.

She told Andric every single time when he worried too much about the siblings and family he couldn't protect so far away. Every single time he ranted about the King and court and how everything was being worked into ruins.

Volantis, not dead.

And then she couldn't say it anymore.

Because she didn't know.

\--

„You know I don't like it when you're up here alone.“ Eyrin began quietly as she stepped out of the staircase and out onto the platform at the top of the Palestone Sword tower, probably the most hated place in Starfall for her since she had found Ashara up here. One hour after the raven from King's Landing had come, words written in Elia's hand, telling them of the Starks' murder. As far as she knew the blasted high tower was a favourite for the siblings to break down on.

„I'm fine.“ Andric told her without taking his eyes off of the sea, the sun was still high in the sky, letting the silver-white hair of her husband shine bright. Eyrin sighed and walked over to where Andric was leaning against the bannister, knuckles nearly white so hard was he holding on.  
„You're not fine, you're scared.“ She said and stroked a hand down his right arm until she could loosen each finger from the metal, intertwining their hands tightly then. „You're scared and it's okay, Andric. They're family and everyone is worried.“

It had been a moon since Volantis had declared war on Lys and Myr. Essos was at war, only Braavos remaining out of it. A moon since the Triarchs had declared foreigners to be hostiles.

Gods, the children.

A moon since and they had heard nothing.

„I should do more.“ Andric was whispering, not a good sign at all, her husband was loud and temperamental, Eyrin leaned against him.  
„You are doing everything you can save for going out on a ship yourself and I will not let you. Gargalen and Velaryon ships are patrolling the Southern coastlines, asking questions to ships who are coming from Essos to escape the war. The Manderlys are doing the same in the North, you know that a voyage takes time.“

They had in fact done everything they could. Every Dornish ship was told to look for Ashara Dayne and ask after her if they passed a ship coming from Essos, soon enough Westeros would know she wasn't dead but they could take the risk. Not with Arthur, but with her, she hadn't done anything to the crown. Ned Stark had assured them that he would deal with King Robert's questions if they arose, Eyrin doubted the king would care at all.

He would care if it had been Arthur the people were talking about but no one was stupid enough to let that happen. 

Lucerys Velaryon, Uncle as Andric and Allyria called him, had quickly sailed over from where he had dwelled in Sunspear, had assured Andric his ships would keep an eye around the Crownlands and further even. As a former Master-of-ships he had the contacts, and he was in cordial speaking times to the new Master-of-ships as well. It hurt a little to know that Lucerys and Laeno only knew to look for Ashara as well, but Andric wanted to be careful, his uncles were still far more closely watched by the crown as Dorne was.

„I can't lose them, Eyrin.“ Andric sighed and closed his eyes, shoulders dropping low, „And the children, gods, the children. I barely know Torrhen, he spent nearly a year in this castle and I barely had any time to get to know my own nephew in this bloody war. And Jon and Rhaena...letters, that is all I have. Letters and what Ally and Ben told us.“ She smiled, moving him away from the bannister so she could hug him, guiding his head to rest against her shoulder.

„You will meet your nephews and your niece, you will have more than enough time to get to know them yourself.“ She soothed him, her own worries were there as well, nagging at her in the dark but she had long since realized that when Andric got quiet she had to be strong for him for a change. When he pulled away again, leaving a kiss on her brow, she smiled at him, „Edric will soon meet his cousins and the boy who will be a cousin to him in all but blood. We just need to be strong and hope.“

„What would I do without you?“ He smiled back at her and she pulled him down for a brief kiss before answering, „Pacing along the beaches of Dorne like Oberyn.“ Ashara was dear to him, Eyrin knew that, but it still didn't explain why he worried his pregnant lover so much. At least Andric remained in the castle most of the time, never straying far from Starfall in case news came, Carral though had nearly thrown up tent down in the harbor and Benjen was everywhere at once.

Eyrin hoped Ellaria Sand had someone to lean onto while her lover was going crazy, being with child was always cause for joy and worry but when everything around you was going insane it was certainly not any easier. Allyria and Eyrin could write songs about that now.

A knock on the door of the staircase interrupted their quiet moment and they both turned around to look at Benjen, face flushed from having run up all those stairs. Eyrin tensed, „Did something happen?“ Allyria had felt faint all day already and though Eyrin knew it to be not uncommon for first time mothers she had still told her good-sister to lie down and get some rest.

„Andric, there is someone at the drawbridge. I think you should come down.“ Benjen spoke up and kept one hand on the hilt of his sword, Andric tensed at Eyrin's side, one arm around her rounded middle.  
„Who does he claim to be?“ Her husband wanted to know, gently pulling her towards Benjen, her good-brother showed dark mistrusting eyes.

„He claims to be the Knight of Skulls and Kisses.“ 

\--

Eyrin had been to King's Landing once to attend the wedding of Rhaegar and Princess Elia and she hadn't attended Harrenhall, preferring instead to remain behind at Starfall. She didn't know Ser Richard Lonmouth, only knew that he had been a close friend of Rhaegar's and Arthur's along with that Mooten boy and the insufferable Jon Connington. 

She knew Mooten had died at the battle whose loss had gotten Connington exiled. Ser Richard was said to have died at the Trident.

„Dead men seem to live longer these days.“ The man sitting across from Andric in his solar said when Andric confronted him with even that thought. Benjen and Carral – who had quickly been fetched – both narrowed their eyes at him, Andric's face remained blank. He looked rather exhausted this man, his clothes not having him look like a man who had been knighted by the Crown Prince himself but more like a smallfalk boy playing at being a hedge knight.

„How did you even hear about news like this in a village in the Kingswood?“ Andric wanted to know after they heard where he had been after the Trident.  
„Barristan.“ Ser Richard answered, all three leading men of her household twitched, Eyrin watched them all with attentive eyes where she sat on the divan at the side.   
„What did you do, Andric?“ Carral rounded on his cousin in the next moment, „I thought you said your little row with Selmy was nothing? How does Selmy spread news like that and people ride for Starfall if it was nothing?“

Andric raised a hand to silence him, eyes narrowing in Ser Richard's direction.

„What did Ser Barristan tell you, Richard?“

And as Ser Richard explained about what was happening in the Kingswood and how he had come across Barristan Selmy and Jaime Lannister, Eyrin couldn't help but think about how rebellions led by higher ups often went without the support that actually counted. The Seven Kingdoms had never been as unstable as they were now, Andric's and Doran's intense letter exchange and Lucerys' stories spoke of intense strains.

King Robert might have his fancy Lords but he didn't have the People. 

Instead he had been the very thing that had killed whom the People wanted. Even now. Five years after the Rebellion had ended with rubies floating in a river and lions murdering innocent children.

Andric sighed when Richard finished with the question Eyrn was surprised he had been able to hold back so long, „Is Arthur alive?“ Every eye in the room turned on Andric who calmly watched Ser Richard for a very long moment, long enough that Ser Richard felt the need to talk once more.

„Andric, I know I'm a Stormlander, but I hold no loyalty or sympathy to the Usurper. I was Rhaegar's friend, I was...am Arthur's friend. Call my a loyalist, call me a Targaryen supporter, I will sign it all. I wanted Rhaegar on the throne, my friend, my Prince, my King and nothing will ever change in that. I could have left for Essos to become a sellsword, gone North to join the Watch, be safe somewhere and drink my sorrows away in cheap ale, but I didn't. I chose to settle in the Kingswood because I knew the people needed help, because I knew they are prone to fall under the spell of outlaws. And I did it because once upon a time Arthur worked so hard to gain their trust, to regain their faith in the crown and I wasn't going to let that be for naught just because this king thinks he can let his men do whatever they want with the smallfolk. I know that I have no right to an answer, I know that mentioning Barristan and Jaime is not exactly gonna help in letting me gain your trust again, but I swear to you on Arthur's honor that they are on the right side in this mess.“

Andric leaned back and Eyrin could see he had made a decision when he slowly began to smile.

„If Volantis hasn't managed what a Rebellion tried, then yes, my brother is alive. So is my sister, so is my nephew and my niece. And so is Rhaegar's son.“


	2. Home - Part I - Volantis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Volantene household turns on Arthur's little family and he has to fight to keep them safe. A moment of breath later makes forming the decision not any easier, they had to leave.

Two moons ago in Volantis

\--

Jon hummed as he looked behind the potted palm tree in the corridor with his father's chambers, small brows furrowing as he still couldn't find any sign of his little green friend. Mexes liked to play hide and seek more than Jon did, especially now where they weren't allowed to leave the house or go into the garden alone.

He didn't know what was going on, just that his father often talked quietly with Aunt Ashara and both of them didn't look happy when they did so. And on the next day, Jon's Papa would leave for hours again in the morning, only to come back looking tired and worried. 

Something was going on.

It had Jon's belly feel weird, really weird. And not funny weird like when they had that funny drink in the harbor. Auntie had said it came from the North of the land Jon's Papa and his Auntie had grown up in, where Torrhen had been born, where Jon had been born himself. The drink had been warm and really sweet and it had tasted so yummy and then it had really really warmed Jon's belly and that had been weird but good weird. 

This now felt weird, too. But bad weird. Bad weird like Jon felt when his Papa had bad days, even if he barely remembered when it had happened last, Papa had gotten better. Papa was strong and tall, and Ser Milo said Papa was the best, so Jon didn't like it when Papa looked worried. Nothing could hurt his Papa, he didn't have to be scared.

Instead of playing outside and climbing up the lemon trees at the back of the big garden, or chasing after Torrhen until they both toppled over laughing into the pool, Jon had to find something to do inside the house. They couldn't even go into the pool now, and they were right on the deck, it was so not fair. No one told them anything. 

And Jon wasn't a baby anymore, not like Rhaena, and even Rhaena could walk and talk a little now.

Rhaena was still sleeping after lunch though, nowadays with Auntie in her rooms while Auntie made that thing with the needles. Torrhen had gone with Ser Milo to train with that wooden sword of his and Jon's Papa had needed to go back into the city, so Jon was alone.

Alone to finally find Mexes.

He had already searched almost everywhere, only here in his father's corridor he hadn't been yet, and he wasn't even supposed to be here when his father wasn't there. There was a lot of stuff in his father's room Jon wasn't supposed to touch and Jon wouldn't touch them, he would just look for Mexes.

After all, she wasn't supposed to be here either.

„Mexes?“ He called out quietly as he abandoned all those plants and little trees and instead walked over to his Papa's bedroom door, it was half open, it was odd. Papa always kept his door shut, even when he was home, ever since Torrhen had gotten that sword out of wood from him. Papa had said it was to make sure they didn't get hurt, because there were a lot of things that could hurt curious little boys who always touched everything.

He had said that to both of them, Torrhen and Jon, but Jon knew that it had been meant for Torrhen because Jon never touched other people's stuff. He didn't want other people to touch what was his so why would he do it then. Torrhen always had to touch everything and Auntie always sighed and told Jon that Torrhen „takes no as a challenge“. Jon wasn't sure if he understood what that had to mean but Torrhen was always fun and exhausting.

Jon stepped into his Papa's bedroom and stopped, little face pulled into a frown when he saw one of the maids pulling things out of the chest by Papa's bed. No one was supposed to touch Papa's stuff.  
„You're not allowed to do that.“ Jon said, jumping when the maid whirled around with wide eyes, hands dropping a book back into the open chest. „That is my Papa's book.“

Suddenly the maid narrowed her eyes at him and then lunged for him, she snarled something at him, words Jon didn't understand and then she grabbed him by his arms. She squeezed really hard, violently pulling him away from the door, Jon stumbled and fell to his knees, crying out when she just continued to drag him over the floor.

And then Jon was thrown against the chest by the window, hitting his head against it, he cried out louder, tears falling from his eyes. It hurt, it hurt so bad.   
„Stay down!“ The maid hissed at him then, Jon didn't even recognize her face, „Stupid child.“ She snapped and Jon quickly ducked when her hand came flying towards him, it only hit his arm. He whimpered, his head hurt so much.

The maid turned away from him and began to pick more stuff from the open chest by the bed, throwing a locket onto the bed. Jon recognized the locket, his Papa had shown him the picture in the locket before, Jon didn't know the man but he knew he had been very important for his Papa.

The maid was muttering angrily to herself, again in words Jon didn't understand, his head hurt so bad, she walked to the bed and grabbed the top of Papa's sword.

No one was allowed to touch Dawn.

No one but Papa and Ser Milo, and even he only when Papa told him.

Jon screamed.

He shouted for his Papa and then just screamed and screamed. He scrambled away from the strange woman. She grabbed his foot before he could get under the bed and Jon cried out when she pulled him up upside down, he hated it, not even his Papa did that with him when they were playing. 

He screamed and kicked at her.

And then he was falling but thankfully onto the bed, he hit his head against Dawn's scabbard and he couldn't even see anymore, he was crying so hard. It hurt and he was scared and he wanted to get away.

He wanted his Papa.

It was not his Papa who came running into the room in the next moment, but it was Ser Milo. He was shouting and threw himself at the woman, Jon closed his eyes and whimpered, he cried and put his hands over his ears.

And then someone was touching him and Jon screamed again, tried to get away but those hands that reached for his arms were small and he knew them. He opened his eyes and looked at Torrhen, Torrhen looked so scared but he wasn't crying. Jon was hurting so much.

„Come.“ Torrhen was yelling at him, jumping down from the bed and he was pushing a pillow down, too. Jon cried and grabbed the hand that Torrhen held out. Ser Milo had pulled the shrieking woman out of the room. „Come, Jon, we must hide.“

But Jon wanted his Papa.

His head hurt so much, he wanted his Papa.

„I want Papa.“ He cried as Torrhen helped him climb down onto the ground, Jon watched how Torrhen kicked the pillow under the bed.  
„Uncle has to fight the bad men. We need to hide, Jon.“ Torrhen said and then he was pushing Jon under the bed and Jon didn't want to go under the bed, he wanted his Papa, but he still crawled under the bed, whimpering when his knees hurt. „As far as you can, Jon, I'll come, too. We hide together.“

Jon bit back another cry and crawled and robbed until he was against the wall, he looked back to where he saw Torrhen's boots. One of them had red spots. Torrhen pushed the blanket from the bed and everything the woman had thrown onto the bed fell down, some of it rolled under the bed. Torrhen didn't care for that as he grabbed the edge of the blanket and crawled under the bed, too. Jon though saw the locket, the one his Papa liked so much and he quickly grabbed it before Torrhen was there. 

Torrhen pulled him close and then wriggled the blanket over them so that only their heads were out, he pushed the pillow under their heads and Jon didn't care how much of a baby he may be but he buried his face in Torrhen's chest. His hands held the locket in one and Torrhen's sleeve in the other.

„I want Papa.“ He whispered into Torrhen's tunic and Torrhen shushed him, arms tight around him. Torrhen's heart was so loud against Jon's ear, so loud like his own, he was scared, too and Torrhen was never scared. Footsteps sounded and Jon held himself very still but it was only Ser Milo who spoke then.

„Stay right there with Jon, Torrhen. Do not come out for anyone but your Mother, your Uncle or me. Do you understand?“ Jon looked up and saw how Ser Milo was kneeling next to the bed, he was holding his sword and the sword was red, Jon quickly looked away.  
„Yes.“ Torrhen answered his question and Jon saw still how Ser Milo grabbed Dawn and then he was leaving, and the door was closed.

Jon turned back to cling to Torrhen, he was shaking and his head was hurting and his belly was feeling very very bad.

„What is happening?“ He asked Torrhen when it was so quiet that it was too scary, both their hearts were beating so fast.  
„There were bad men. They killed the guards and then they came running into the yard, they were yelling. I don't know what they said. But then Uncle was there with our men and then they were fighting and Ser Milo pulled me away. I don't know where Momma and Rhae are. We heard you screaming.“ Torrhen explained and he hugged Jon even closer.

„I was looking for Mexes. There was a woman here. She was touching Papa's stuff. She hurt me.“ Jon whispered and held the locket tighter. It felt warm in his hand, and when Papa let him look at it before, he had liked to stroke fingers over the thing that was made into the gold. Papa called it a sigil, Jon didn't know what that meant. But this sigil was a dragon, a dragon with three heads and Jon liked it. It was pretty, beautiful.

Like the man in the locket.

His Papa had smiled when Jon had told him that.

Jon wanted his Papa to be here and smiling, too.

\--

It was so quiet. 

Everything was so quiet.

Torrhen kept on glancing over to the door, waiting for those terrible men to come in and start yelling again like they had in the yard. It had been so scary, people had been screaming and there had been blood and the guards had fallen to the ground and Torrhen just knew they had been dead. 

And then Uncle Arthur had come from the gates with more guards and then Ser Milo had pulled Torrhen away. It had been so scary, especially when they had heard Jon screaming and found him being dropped onto the bed by that woman. 

Jon was still quietly crying and whimpering for his Papa, Torrhen held him close, there had been blood on Jon's tunic and pants but there was nothing Torrhen could do but to hold him and shush him to be quiet.

Quiet as a mouse when there were suddenly screams and sounds of fighting from outside the door, Torrhen tensed and held Jon closer even. „Quiet.“ He whispered down into his cousin's black hair, „Quiet, Jon, quiet.“

Neither of them moved.

Outside the sounds of fighting vanished after a moment.

And then the door got thrown open.

\--

The thing no one ever told you about fighting was that even years passed, you still had the easiest time falling back into it. 

Fighting to him came naturally, even after five years of living in supposed peace without a white cloak.

Sometimes even he had longed for those days where he could spar against the best warriors, where Barristan and him could go for endless rounds until someone made them stop.

But on this afternoon, Arthur would have preferred doing anything else but fighting right on the doorstep of the house that was supposed to be their safe home, a sheltered home for three children to grow up in. It was not supposed to become a battlefield.

Betrayed by their own household staff.

Betrayed by people who had been locals. Betrayed by people who had been sold as slaves but freed by them, employed with coins finding their hands, with a warm cot to sleep on under a safe protected roof.

„And people ask me why I have trust issues.“ Arthur snarled and whirled around to run his sword through the gut of one of the men in scarlet armor. Men of the Triarchs. The ultimatum against foreigners had run out long before it was said to be it seemed. Stabbed in the back, he had never thought Volantis would sink that low again.

On his right, Luke snorted, one of five knights sworn to House Dayne who were now with them. All five of them had squired for Andric or Carral. Their loyalty wasn't born, it was bred.

Spin, slash, stab. Step, move, block. 

It was like breathing, it just happened, came to him naturally, he didn't need to think, he just did. 

Which meant his head had enough time freaking out over what would await him inside the house. He had been gone for just another hour, just hoping to see a Dornish ship in the harbor, only to run into a man who was rushing away from the harbor, telling them that the Triarch's men were out for blood right now.

He hadn't run up that blasted hill in so little time in all of these five years they had been here now.

By the blasted gods, let his sister have locked herself in her room with Rhaena. Let Milo have brought Torrhen somewhere safe. 

And Seven of Seven, let Jon's instinct work out another time and have him hide.

Have the kids and Ashara be safe.

Spin, attack, defend. 

„Arthur!“

Whirling around Arthur caught the hilt of Dawn that Milo thrust towards him before throwing himself at his back. Arthur reacted driven by pure instinct, dropping the other sword like a piece of discarded garbage. Nothing ever compared to the feeling of Dawn in his hands. He almost felt sorry for the first man who crossed his path and got confronted with the full anger of Dawn's blade.

Arthur had five years of still pent up frustration over the Rebellion and Rhaegar's death left. Five years of pent up fury over the murder of Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon. Five years of pent up anger over having to watch Lyanna die without being able to do anything.

They tried to take everything away from him.

Those cursed gods already took so much. 

His heart, his duty, his honor. 

They wouldn't get his family now, too. 

They wouldn't get Jon.

When it was all done and the last man or woman fell under a Dornish blade, there was no stopping anymore and led by Arthur the man rushed into the house where maids and servants were revolting as well. Arthur sent Milo to get Ashara and Rhaena after he had given Arthur the wonderful message that Torrhen was hiding with Jon in his room.

Well meant.

Maybe in another life it would have brought him relief.

But all he could think of when he heard Milo telling him the boys were hiding under his bed was Rhaenys.

Little scared Rhaenys hiding under her father's bed when the man came who would stab her to death. Over a hundred times.

Luke followed him as Arthur made his way towards the back of the house, cutting down those who thought they needed to fight, snarling at those, who were smart enough not to, to leave and not dare come back. 

Outside of his bedroom, they encountered a woman shoving silverware into a bag and Arthur roughly shoved her to the side for Luke to deal with, not giving a single fuck about the silver. They could take all the silverware, gold and jewels as they wanted as long as he got the children and his sister.

He kicked the door to his bedroom open, the room was in utter chaos, things thrown everywhere, Arthur swallowed hard at the black cloak with the three headed dragon on its back, he hoped no one had enough wits about them to talk if they ever reached their true masters. He set Dawn onto the bed and fell onto his knees next to it, leaning down to look under it. 

First he saw only a lump of blanket and was already fearing the boys had been found after all, but then he looked closer and found Torrhen peeking back at him from the darkness.

„Oh thank the stars, come here, boys. Come out.“ He held out a hand, heart beating so strong it nearly hurt until he had both boys out from under his bed. Torrhen was visibly unaffected, eyes scared but calm, for once that fearless blind confidence was helpful. Jon though...

Jon was shaking and trembling, crying and whimpering when Arthur pulled him into his arms to check him over, his pants were rupped in several places, his knees were scratched up and he was bleeding from a cut at the back of his head.

„The woman threw him around.“ Torrhen said, jumping when Luke appeared in the door and pressing closer to Arthur. „He says it hurts.“  
„Aye, I'm sure it does.“ Arthur agreed, kissed Jon's forehead briefly, before looking from one pair of terrified violet eyes to another, „You'll be okay now. No one is gonna hurt you now.“ Quickly looking around, he set Jon down only long until to hastily put on a cloak and some leather gloves. Luke lent a hand in strapping Dawn to his back and then he was ready.

Snatching up the black cloak and turning the red dragon to the inside he wrapped up Jon in it, hoping that fate would lead some more protection now. 

'Wherever you may now, Regg' He thought while he pulled parts of the Targaryen cloak over Jon's head after picking him up, 'You cloaked Lyanna with this to guide her into your protection, now let that protect your son as well.'

Jon whimpered and Arthur hurried to wipe tears away, „It's okay, it's all going to be okay, my little brave wolf. Papa is here, and I'm not going to go anywhere. You'll be okay, Jon.“ He tried to calm the boy but Jon cried and pushed closer until Arthur had him wrapped in his arms so tight that it had to be crushing the child.

With Jon in his arms Arthur straightened up again, smoothing a soothing hand through Torrhen's hair, „I'm proud of you, nephew. You did so well, now keep close.“

\--

They came upon Ashara with little Rhaena wrapped in a cloak in her arms just like Arthur was holding onto Jon. Ashara flinched at the sight of the blood on Jon's face but Arthur waved her panic away, it was nothing too bad, he had seen injuries like this before. With a wild older brother and a restless younger sister, you saw a lot of injuries on children growing up.

And of course Torrhen and the bloody desert snake.

Torrhen went to take his mother's hand and Milo ushered them out of the back of the house into the garden, over to the little exit only Arthur and him knew about, though judging by the not too surprised look on Torrhen's face, he had found the locked door as well already.

The four other knights kept their weapons out, forming a circle around them almost as they hurried out onto the back streets. It was eeriely quiet, not the pandomonium that a part of Arthur had feared.

They left everything behind, he would go back later or send men to go back later to get some of their things, those that held meaning and memory. For now it was important to get Ashara and the children somewhere safe, to have someone look at Jon's wounds and tend to them. He was once more so glad that aside from a few belongings bearing the three headed dragon he had left everything of real importance in Starfall.

The papers, most of all the papers, Andric was guarding those. No thought better spent on what could have happened if anyone had found those and brought them to the Triarchs or any other high master in the city.

Word would have spread so fast.

The sword, the goddamn sword with the ruby in the hilt. Neither Andric, nor Carral or Benjen had any idea on how it had turned up in Starfall one day. Not even Ned Stark could have said something.

„Where do we go now?“ Ashara asked frightfully, clutching Rhaena close and keeping a tight grip on Torrhen's hand as Milo and Luke rushed her down the narrow street, one hand each on her back, the other holding their swords. Arthur longed to feel Dawn in his hands again but Jon was more important than an added sense of security for himself.

Jon needed it more right now.

And speaking of Jon.

„The friend you didn't want to see anymore.“ Arthur said with a glance to his sister who scowled despite the fear in her bones, „He'll keep us safe and secret for tonight and I'll need his contacts to find us a ship tomorrow.“ Ashara sighed but said nothing in protest.

\--

Arthur knocked on the black door, shifting Jon higher in his arms, Dawn's reassuring weight on his back. The door opened quickly then, and they got waved inside by the man wearing simple blue tunics. Arthur walked until he was standing in the middle of the small sitting room, only breathing out deeply once the door was closed, Ashara with a still whimpering Rhaena in her arms, Milo setting Torrhen down on the ground again.

Evan, Roland, Julius and Luke kept themselves in the background, hands still on the hilts of their swords and spears. 

„We should probably guard the doors, there is one at the back. I send my own guard to fetch food, as much as they can get. We should sit tight for the night.“ Their door opener offered up as he stepped into the room, before Arthur could have said anything Milo already divided his men and himself between the two house entrances. He patted Arthur's shoulder as he passed, Arthur smiled gratefully at him.

„Ashara, you can take my room if you want to get some rest for yourself and the littles ones.“ She thanked the gesture with a brief squeeze of the man's hand before she ushered Torrhen from the sitting room, violet eyes only briefly looked back to Arthur and his quiet cousin but Arthur nodded to his nephew. He would follow them soon, check on them, but now his little wolf needed some more tending to.

„I grabbed some stuff when your man came running, come, kitchen.“ 

Arthur followed their savior into the small kitchen, sat down on a chair and pulled Jon out of the cloak he had so quickly wrapped him in, the house owner stared at the revealed dragon for a moment, then swallowed heavily and turned back to the kitchen counters. Jon blinked at him, eyes still full of tears but his head had stopped bleeding. 

„He looks more like him every day.“

Arthur looked away from Jon's tired pained eyes and over to the pale blue eyes in the face of the man approaching with a bowl of water and some linen cloths.   
„He looks more like them every day.“ Arthur corrected and then sighed when blue eyes got narrowed in his direction, „I'm sorry, I don't want to argue. This has been by far the scariest day of my life. Forgive me, Jon.“

„Nothing to forgive, my friend. I can hardly imagine how it has to feel. Now, let's see to this one's hurts, won't we?“ Jon Connington smiled, red hair as striking as always. „Where does it hurt, little Jon?“ Jon the child hesitated only for a moment before he pointed at his knees and then his head, Arthur was surely glad that though not often, both Jons had met, otherwise this would have been additional stress for a child after what had just happened to him.

He stroked through the uninjured side of Jon's hair while Connington quickly cleaned the boy's knees and wrapped them up with some ointment before taking a good look at Jon's head.  
„Aye, that'll hurt but it's nothing dangerous. Head wounds bleed a lot, always looks more scary than it truly is most of the time.“ Connington decided and Arthur breathed out a relieved sigh, „We should keep an eye on him for now, but I believe he'll be fine. I'll make him some watered down milk of the poppy, take the pain away.“

„Thank you, Jon.“ Arthur said, wrapping Jon back into the blanket and hugging him close, Jon went back to clutching the front of his tunic tightly with one hand, the other had not stopped clutching that golden thing with the chain that Arthur could barely see in that tight grip Jon had on it.   
„Take a breath, Arthur, you're safe for now, this night anyway. We'll talk once the children are asleep.“ Connington told him and then set to put his things away again, Arthur could see that he had been packing as well already in the last days.

He went back to his feet and walked over to where Ashara had vanished into a small room with the children before. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed where Torrhen and Rhaena were clinging onto each other, Ashara had a hand resting on her daughter's feet. She looked up though when he entered, „Is he okay?“  
„He will be. Just bad scrapes. Jon will water down some milk of the poppy so that he'll sleep without pain. How are yours?“ Arthur asked her in turn and Ashara sent a tense smile to her children, Rhaena was asleep, probably pure exhaustion, Torrhen was watching them.

„Spooked.“ Ashara answered, smiling at Jon when Arthur laid him down on the bed as well, the hand that had until now held onto Arthur went to reach for Torrhen and Torrhen only too happily grabbed it. Arthur went down on his knees next to his sister, hands stroking over the heads of all three children, giving himself a long moment to just breathe.

Nothing bad had happened.

He got them all out.

Jon was hurt but he would be okay.

He would be okay.

Now they could think about how to get away from this hell.

„Papa?“ Jon drew him out of his thoughts quietly and Arthur looked at him, finding a small hand finally revealing what he had been holding so tight all the time. „The woman wanted to steal it. So I took it, to keep it safe. I know it means a lot to you, Papa.“ Ashara gasped and Arthur felt tears in his own eyes, heart beating a little faster as he stared down at the three headed dragon on the locket. The locket with Rhaegar's portrait on the inside. The locket he had gifted Lyanna upon meeting up with her outside of Riverrun's forest. The locket Lyanna had gifted Arthur a mere two days after news of Rhaegar's death had reached them.

„How about you keep this one for me for now, little wolf? It'll keep you safe from bad things.“ Arthur knew his voice was a little heavy with held back emotions as he reached out to slip the locket's chain around Jon's neck. Jon nodded, eyes falling close, he was scared but also exhausted, fighting sleep because he was terrified. „Nothing will happen, you hear me? Torrhen, you too. We're safe here, there are all our men here who will protect you. I will protect you. Those bad men and women will not come here. And tomorrow or the day after, we are going to leave.“

„Where will we go?“ Torrhen wanted to know, sending a look from him to his mother and then back again, Arthur tried to look reassuring.  
„I don't know yet, Torrhen. I will go and talk with our friend Jon Connington and Ser Milo after you have fallen asleep, your Momma will stay here with you.“ Arthur explained and promised, leaning down to kiss Jon's forehead, „It's all gonna be okay, boys.“

\--

Later after milk of the poppy, a story and exhaustion had let Torrhen and Jon fall asleep, too, Arthur walked back into the sitting room where Connington and Milo were waiting for him, together with a black haired man whose face was vaguely known to Arthur, Connington's guard, an old friend from Griffin's Roost.

„The boys fell asleep, though I fear we'll be faced with terrible nightmares for the next moons.“ Arthur noted and sank down on a chair with a sigh, his right side was aching but he knew it was only bruising. „We need to leave.“ He got right down to the point in the next breath, „We need to leave this place as soon as possible, find a ship and go.“

„And where do you want to go?“ Connington threw into the round, „The only city who has staid out of this ridiculous war for now is Braavos. And it is crawling with Westerosi, Baratheon spies.“  
„Because he believes Viserys and his sister to be there with Willem.“ Arthur continued Connington's thought, „Aye, Braavos is out of the question and I will not venture any further into the East. We will make for Dorne.“ He let his decision be known and where Milo's eyes flashed in relief because Dorne was home and home always carried the sense of safety, Connington frowned, „Every piece of news I have from my brother and my good-brother is that the Iron Throne has realized they have infuriated Dorne, and that their tactic is to let Dorne grieve in peace and silence until they are ready to return to the Kingdoms.“

Milo and even Connington's guard snorted, even Jon himself looked amused.

„Alright then, Dorne, whatever ship we may find tomorrow. Starfall. Sunspear. Water Gardens. You take whatever we find for you. But I would still advice you to return once the war is over, go to Lys, go to Myr. Westeros is not safe for the boy.“ Connington warned him and Arthur inclined his head for him, not wanting to argue anymore, their opinions had always clashed.

Rhaegar had always said that the day Jon and Arthur agreed on something they would have to fear the end of the world as they know it. Jon and Arthur hadn't even been able to agree on that.

There had even been one memorable occasion where Rhaegar had had to physically shove himself between the two of them, Richard and Myles jumping into the fray to each hold one of them back. Jon Connington would always be one of very few people whose simple presence could turn the everlasting calm inside Arthur into a raging storm.

And still they were friends.

Finding Jon at the harbor two years ago had been a blessing almost, a friend, an ally in this city that could so quickly turn on them. And now had ended up turning on them.

They arranged a plan between the four of them, Milo would take half of the man to the house tomorrow and get as much of their things as possible. Arthur knew they could still very much buy clothes and toys again, especially once they were back in Dorne, but there were belongings there he couldn't replace, things his sister and him held onto for the children. A blessing really that the paranoia of the last weeks had already had Ashara and Arthur half packing in preparation.

So that they would one day know where they came from and have something of their fathers and in Jon's case of his mother, too. 

Jon and Arthur would go down to the harbor at sunrise, hopefully find a ship willing to sail for Dorne.

\--

The night was rough then.

Despite the milk of the poppy Jon woke up crying and whimpering again and again, until Arthur was forced to take him out of bed and out of the room so that Ashara, Torrhen and Rhaena would not be woken from the rest they needed after such a day. 

He ended up alternatively walking in circles with his little restless scared wolf in the sitting room or holding him when he slept again for a while on the settee. Jon whimpered for Meraxes and wouldn't settle down again until Milo swore to look for her on the morrow, and even then the tears kept falling.

Arthur hated it.

Fighting against real enemies was easy. Cutting down an attacker was something he had been born for. Keeping these children physically safe was in his blood.

But fighting against invisible foes...worst enemy of his life. And this was so much worse than those long long weeks when the first teeth had come in, or when they were screaming as babes because something was hurting and they couldn't explain.

But back then his voice had helped. His voice telling stories about legends of old and new in the light of stars.

So now he talked as well, talked and talked about the one thing that came to mind when he saw the golden chain around Jon's neck. He told stories about a Silver Prince and his She-Wolf, and Jon finally fell into a sleep that lasted for more than an hour.

„You're not coming with us, are you?“ Arthur asked the older Jon when the younger one was snoring quietly against his chest. Jon huffed and turned away from where he had been shoving papers and books into a chest.   
„I will leave Volantis but I will not come with you, no.“ Jon agreed with his words, glancing over to Arthur from blue eyes, „You and I, we both know I will not be welcome in Dorne, and there is nothing you can say right now that could convince me otherwise. Braavos...“

„Is lurking with Baratheon assassins as you said yourself. Probably by now crawling with Lannister bought men “ Arthur pointed out, stroking a hand down little Jon's back, „Your head is being called for still, Jon. Robert thinks I'm dead, Richard and Myles are dead. You are the one left from Rhaegar's loyal friends, the former exiled Hand of the King. If word gets to the Iron Throne that you have been spotted in Braavos, they will think you to be conspiring to put Viserys on the throne.“ Arthur reasoned and Jon scoffed, locking another chest up tight.

„Viserys is a boy of twelve. And the coin dropped on the wrong side for him, we could both see that already when he was still a child terrorizing maids in the Red Keep. Rhaegar could see it and the boy was his own brother. That boy will never see the throne and that is why I have to go to Pentos. Illyrio Mopatis is getting too interested in the Targaryens.“ Jon explained his plan and Arthur grimaced, „Yes, I know, the man is not to be trusted at all. I know what I am doing, Arthur. Politics, I can deal with those, it's the bloody fighting part that I prefer to leave to you.“

„I won't put Jon on the throne.“

„And I don't want you to.“ Jon said, for the first time actually looking like he really meant it even, „Let the boy grow up, happy and sheltered and without the pressure wearing him down before he even know what it means. Let him decide what to do with his legacy once he knows where he comes from. But one day, he might decide he wants his birthright, and I know that then you'll want every support you can get for him. Which entails especially that we will not have an exiled King Viserys, third of his name, plotting to stab him in the back.“

„Another dance of the dragons. Aye, no, we cannot, even without actual dragons it will bloody.“ Arthur agreed, even if such thoughts nearly turned his stomach upside down. Jon sank down on the seat closest to him, leaned forward.  
„I will not breathe a word to Mopatis about him, Arthur. I am going to make sure whatever he is planning behind the backs of Rhaegar's siblings does not end up putting us in danger. Leave the politics to me, keep the boy safe and be his father.“

\--

In the morning good luck returned to them when Arthur and Jon Connington stepped out onto the harbor, hooded and careful. Arthur wasn't even going to think about not carrying Dawn right now, there were only a handful of Westerosi ships remaining in Volantis and even those had to be gone in two days or the Triarchs considered them free for the taking. 

And they not only needed to find a Westerosi ship, they needed to find a Dornish one or one flying a Velaryon seahorse, only those crews could be counted on to deliver them safely to Dorne.

Fortunately, Arthur spotted a very familiar ship docked at the far side of the foreigners' harbor as they were carefully walking along the pier. 

And standing before its planks was a man who caught his eyes in the next moment and then looked so godsdamn relieved that Arthur had actually smiled.

They were going home.


	3. Home - Part II - The Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's going home.

The moment the last sign of Volantis and Volantene ships disappeared on the horizon, Arthur turned and leaned back against the railing, a hand coming up to be dragged over his face. Marten Sand patted his shoulder as he passed by him, yelling out more orders to his crew to set the biggest sails now where they were on open water.

It had been a blessing to find him so quickly in the harbor this morning, even more of a blessing and miracle really when they had so quickly then managed to pack everything up and get ready. Milo and the men he had taken had brought more than Arthur had expected, every piece of personal belonging that couldn't be so quickly rebought.

And most of all Milo had brought a basket onto the ship with himself, letting Jon scramble down from the cot below deck to get Meraxes out. He was still there in the Captain's Chamber, sitting on the bed with Meraxes draped around him like a protecter, his knees and head still wrapped up with linen bandages. Ashara had promised to look after him while Arthur remained on deck, Rhaena was content to play with one of her mother's necklaces and a coconut that Marten had given her.

Torrhen was mighty happy to be helping where he could, Arthur had the least worries with him, he was shaken up but distraction worked wonders to have him laugh again, even only hours after leaving Volantis. The night would show how his little mind was really coping.

“Stop worrying, White Knight.” Marten spoke up when he approached again, throwing a blood orange for Arthur to catch, “We made it out. Open sea, no one is gonna come after us here. My ship is one of the fastest in Westeros, even your uncle begrudgingly admits to that.” Arthur rolled his eyes over the cheek of their Captain, pulling out a dagger to peel the fruit. “I gotta admit though, when that Lysene ship stopped us and told us about the escalating tension leading directly to war with Volantis, my heart stopped. Felt like I was aging a whole decade in the next two days until we reached the harbor.”

“You didn't need to put yourself and your crew in that kind of danger. We would have found another ship.” Arthur reasoned and breathed out deeply upon the sweet taste of the blood orange in his mouth. Marten snorted, throwing peeled blood orange skin overboard.  
“Did you really expect me to just turn around and sail back to Dorne, so that I would face my brothers and tell them that though I was only two days out I didn't try to rescue our family?” Marten asked him and smiled at where Torrhen was helping to hold a rope.

“Family?”

“Your brother was fostered with my father and then married a Gargalen daughter. Your sister basically grew up with us at the Water Gardens, that makes you all family.” Marten clarified and Arthur chuckled in response, before sighing once more and throwing the remains of the blood orange skin overboard as well. “Now take care of your little ones and Ashara, leave the actual ship travel to me. I'll bring you home safely, the sea is the skill I excell in, Dayne.”

Arthur laughed and shoved Marten in the direction of his First Mate who was tapping his foot by the wheel. He himself made Torrhen promise one more time that he would listen to the sailors and then went back to Marten's chambers that he had provided them for the time it would take them to reach Dorne. 

He nearly stumbled over the coconut and his niece when he turned around after closing the cabin's door behind himself. Rhaena abandoned her play and stretched up arms, “Up!” She demanded, lips curling into a pout when Arthur wasn't immediately bending down, he knew it was half played. “Uncle, up!” He raised an eyebrow at her and waited, “Please pick up?”  
“Now, there is a magic word. Come here.” He chuckled and picked Rhaena up with ease, pressing a kiss into her hair, it hadn't darkened in the slightest since her birth, remained in the silver blond both her blood uncles had enherited from their Velaryon mother.

Daynes were known for violet or purplish-blue eyes, the magic of the stars his grandmother had called it, and either blond hair or dark brown. They often were paler than other Dornishmen, remaining with the last drops of blood from the First Men. All four children of Beric Dayne and Eleana Velaryon had been pale, but could quickly get kissed by the sun and not burn away like the Northmen did in Dorne.

Benjen a good example.

And though Rhaena could just as easily come after her grandmother, for all that she looked like the spitting image of how Arthur's mother must have looked like as a child, he somehow had the feeling it was her father's blood giving her those looks. Made him only all the more interested in who the bloody man was.

Not that his sister would ever tell him.

“You doing okay, my sweet?” He wanted to know and Rhaena nodded, wrapping arms around his neck and hugging him while he walked over to where his sister was sitting on one side of the bed with needlework to keep her thoughts from drifting. At the head of the bed, Jon was stroking over Meraxes tail with one hand, the lizard curled around his right leg, and frowning down at one of his books.

“Has he said anything yet?” Arthur directed at his sister quietly as he sat down on the bed between Jon and Ashara, pushing himself back until he could lean against the wall of the cabin. Jon had not uttered a single word aside from saying goodbye to Connington when the other man had left with his guard to reach the last ship for Pentos.  
“No, he didn't. I think either his head aches still or more likely travelling by ship is not to his liking.” Ashara explained and while cuddling Rhaena and stroking through her hair, Arthur turned his head to watch over his little wolf.

Jon looked a little flushed. If it was the first, he'll have to ask Marten if he had someone on board with some healing knowledge. If it was the second, he'll have to ask Marten if he knew a trick against the seasickness.

For now he reached out and poked a bare foot, violet eyes glanced up, “You want me to read for you, little wolf?”Arthur offered up and Jon nodded, handing over the book before crawling into his lap, lizard still attached to his leg and all. Arthur kept a moment of intense eye contact with Meraxes before huffing quietly and raising his leg a little so she could curl the end of her tail around it, basically locking Jon and him together. “Alright, what shall we read. Aemon the Dragonknight?” Jon's second favourite, “King Daeron?” To Arthur's and Ashara's amusement, the part where Dorne rebelled and got their country back from the young King was Jon's absolute favourite, but today he shook his head to all of them. “What do you want to hear then, my little wolf?”

Jon turned the pages of the book nearly all to the end and then pointed at the title of Arthur's favourite as a child. A tale that was barely old enough to be counted as history, or turned into a fairytale.

'I could have actually met the man' Arthur thought as he got more comfortable, 'Gerold and Barristan knew the man, so did Rhaella of course. If it hadn't been for that fire, he might have still sat the throne when I was a child. His mother was my great-grandfather's sister. Rhaegar used to throw that at everyone's ears, whether they wanted to listen or not.'

“Alright then, one tale of Dunk and Egg coming along.”

'Gerold compared me to him once, Duncan the Tall, because the smallfolk loved him most of all as well.' Arthur let his thoughts run while he read out loud to Jon and Rhaena, Ashara stitching on next to him, 'I couldn't take my jaw off the floor for days. Duncan the Tall. He saved Rhaella in Summerhall, thanks to him Rhaegar didn't die before he could even been born. Duncan the Tall died only a year before I was born. And yet here I am, reading children's stories about him.'

Unbeknownst to Arthur, the smallfolk in the Kingswood villages were telling stories about him to their children just in that moment, helped along by a man with green eyes and golden hair.

They were almost through the story, an oil lamp having been lit by Ashara halfway through because of the slowly sinking sun outside, when the door to the cabin threw open, ripping Jon and Rhaena from their drowsy states.

They all looked over to where Torrhen was standing in the doorway, grinning bright and dripping from head to toes with water.

“They found a fish that is bigger than me!” He declared loudly, earning himself a scoff from Jon who didn't like it at all when story time got interrupted. “Really!” Torrhen zeroed in on him, taking his disgruntled face for doubt and not displeasure, “It is really ugly and it feels funny, but they say it tastes good!”

“That is wonderful, sweetie.” Ashara began as she went to her feet and took a step closer to him, only to freeze on the spot, “Oh my god, you are reeking. You need a bath, young man.”  
“No, I don't.” Torrhen's reply came quick as a whip lash, eyes flying up to stare at his mother for a second before he spun around and took off, Ashara immediately lunging to get him.

“Torrhen, get back here!”

In the silence that followed, Jon tapped the book impatiently and Arthur sighed once before reading on.

\--

Torrhen loved the ship.

He loved that he could just run around all day long and he never had to tell his Mama where he was going because it wasn't like he could just run off somewhere else. There was only water around them, so much blue water and the sun, but nothing else. 

And Torrhen loved it.

He could run around, he could help and ask questions all day long and there was always someone around to talk to. His Mama sometimes came along and sat on a stool on deck but she looked after Rhaena, because Rhaena was small still. Torrhen sometimes played with her, and every night he told Jon and her what he had learned that day.

The man with the earrings bigger than his Mama's had told him that soon he could catch his own fish, Torrhen found that so cool.

He wanted to show everything to Jon, too, but Jon was sick. Nothing bad, his uncle had explained him, Jon just didn't like going with the ship at all. The Captain called it seasick. Jon sat down in the cabin and played with Meraxes, or he was in Uncle's arms on deck, looking unhappy. Uncle told stories and kept him with him all the time now, Torrhen found that okay, Jon had been hurt, Torrhen was still angry about it.

Jon was little, Jon was not supposed to get hurt.

So every afternoon, when the sun was not so high anymore, Torrhen worked extra hard to get better with the sword. Ser Milo still taught him but now Uncle helped as well and Torrhen loved that most of all. And when Ser Milo and Uncle sparred with each other after Torrhen's lessons, everyone on board was watching.

Torrhen also paid attention during the other lessons now, those that his Mama gave, letters and numbers, history, so boring, but Jon liked them. And Jon was sad right now, Torrhen didn't want him to be sad, so he asked the sailors for stories when they had supper together. All of them together.

Jon was too afraid to ask himself still, but he wanted to hear new stories.

The men did not all come from Westeros, but those who did came from all over, not just Dorne and Torrhen was curious to hear more about Westeros, not just from Mama, Uncle and Ser Milo. Torrhen's favourite sailor was the man with the big earrings.

Because he came from the North.

Like Torrhen's Father.

He was Torrhen Sand, the son of Ashara Dayne and Brandon Stark.

His Mama was from Dorne, they were sailing there now, Torrhen had heard a lot about Dorne, but not about the North. His Mama had never been there, and she didn't know much, Uncle knew a bit but he had never been, too, so Torrhen followed the man with the earrings a lot and asked a lot of questions.

He wasn't supposed to tell people who his father was, not when Mama or Uncle didn't know them, but this man seemed to know by just looking at him, so Torrhen could ask him all about the North. He learned about snow that never went away, Torrhen didn't know what snow felt like, he wanted to see it one day. He learned that people had to wear furs because it was cold all the time.

He learned more about wolves and direwolves, was sad to learn that this man also hadn't seen a direwolf. They were like Jon's dragon, people said they had existed but no one had ever seen one. So stupid. But the man said he had seen a lot of wolves up close, Torrhen wanted to see one as well, maybe even pet one. The Stark's sigil was a direwolf, but a wolf came close.

His Mama called him her wild wolf sometimes, because that had been what people had called his Father. He was dead, Torrhen's Mama had told him that one day when he was older she would tell him how he died and how brave and strong he was. His Mama also said that one day that would visit the North and the other Uncle Torrhen had there, Uncle Ned she called him, he had a family there, in Winterfell.

Uncle Benjen had told him about Winterfell but Torrhen had been small and didn't remember much, but Uncle Benjen was in Dorne, so Torrhen would see him again soon. And then he could tell Uncle Benjen that he now knew that Uncle Benjen's older brother had been Torrhen's Father, he hadn't known that back then.

“Thibald?” He asked one afternoon where he was helping gut fish on deck, the man from the North hummed to ask, “Did you ever meet a Stark?” Thibald laughed and threw another fish into a basket. Across the deck Jon was sitting with Uncle and the Captain, listening to their conversation.  
“I am gutting fish with one right now, ain't I?” Thibald answered him and Torrhen frowned, looking around, the only one helping them was a man with black skin from Essos, Thibald couldn't mean him.

“I'm no Stark.” Torrhen said quickly, frowning up at the man with dark eyes, who chuckled and handed him another fish.  
“You have the blood of the Starks in you. You're the son of the Wild Wolf, you're one yourself. You're a Stark, just as much as you are a Dayne, even if you carry neither of those names, even if you were born in Dorne. You're a wolf, Torrhen Sand, a Northern wolf.”

Thibald explained and then told him a story about the big wolf who had scared him riding one day as a child, Torrhen listened but also looked over to Jon. Uncle called him 'little wolf', did that mean Jon had Stark blood like Torrhen? Jon's Papa was Uncle Arthur, but Torrhen didn't know who Jon's Mama was. Jon hadn't asked yet, and Torrhen's Mama had told him to not ask Uncle until Jon had, because that was something that Jon had to know first.

Was Jon's Mama a Stark?

“You excited to go home?” Aro wanted to know when Torrhen brought him the fish later, Aro was the cook and he made lots of different things out of fish, Torrhen liked watching how supper came together. He thought a bit before he answered, he didn't always have quick words, no matter what his Mama said.

“I think I am.”

He was excited to see Dorne, he had been born in Dorne before they had gone to Volantis, but Torrhen didn't know Dorne. Not like he knew Volantis and the white house with the big garden. They couldn't stay there anymore because of the bad people. But Torrhen had also known every corner of the big garden and the white house, and he knew Volantis.

He didn't know Dorne. Or Westeros, and it was so big.

Torrhen was excited to see Westeros, something new. Home was where Mama was, where his little sister was, where Uncle and Jon were.

“Okay, then come here, Torrhen, I wanna show you something.”

Something new was always exciting.

\--

Jon hated the ship. 

He didn't not like it, he hated the ship. The ship and the stupid sea.

He didn't stop being sick and he was throwing up when he didn't drink the icky tea the cook made him and that his Papa made him drink. It was disgusting, terrible and Jon really didn't like it. He found though that making his Papa take a sip each morning made it all better.

His Papa looked really funny when he swallowed that stupid tea.

So much water. Too much water. Jon wanted land, he wanted his feet to not stand on something moving.

Jon also didn't like sleeping. When he was sleeping, he saw the bad woman and he heard the bad men and it was scary. He had bad dreams, really bad dreams that only his Papa could make better when Jon woke up really scared in the night.

The people, Torrhen called them sailors, on the ship were nice, they were not scary, but Jon didn't go anywhere without his Papa. If his Papa was busy, he stayed down with Mexes. Mexes made everything easier, he read to her about the big dragons in his books.

Mexes was good, she hissed at the people that Jon didn't want close and she was warm when she wrapped herself around his leg. She listened to him, she didn't want to go up on the top of the ship and find new things to play with like Torrhen and Rhaena. 

One day, Jon would not be a little wolf anymore but a big scary one and then he would not be scared anymore by the bad men. Or he would have a big wolf, Torrhen had told him that some man from the North, the real North had said there were really big wolves up there. No one threatened someone with a big scary wolf.

“Or I'll find a dragon.” Jon told Mexes when they were lying on the big bed, book pushed open on the big picture with the three dragons of Aegon the Conquerer and his sisters. Balerion the Black Dread. Vhagar. And pretty pretty Meraxes. “Papa says the dragons have been gone for a long time, but maybe they just didn't look everywhere. Papa also says he doesn't know everything.” Jon put the book to the side and stretched out his hands to get the black cloak from under the pillow.

Papa had wrapped him into the cloak when they had run from the bad people and when the bad dreams came now Jon always asked his Papa to wrap him into it again. It made his Papa smile that funny smile but it made Jon's belly feel all warm. 

And safe.

Jon knew now what safe meant. Safe was being in Papa's arm when his belly felt weird. Safe was holding Auntie's hand when they went into the big room to get food. Safe was hiding behind Torrhen when he didn't want to be looked at. Safe was reading to Rhaena about the great Knights in his books. 

Safe was looking at the man in the locket. Safe was feeling the black cloak around his shoulders and touching his fingers to the three headed dragon.

Jon grinned and pulled the cloak over his shoulders, he stood up and jumped up and down on the bed. His head didn't hurt anymore, not at all and his belly was okay again and he hadn't been sick all day and maybe it was okay again.

He heard steps outside the door and hopped down from the bed, showing Mexes that she needed to be silent. Jon giggled and picked her up. When the door got opened he pushed her up and roared. Auntie gave a yelp and his Papa started laughing, snatching Jon up into his arms. “Well, look who is finally feeling better. Come on, squirt, I wanna show you something.” 

Auntie took Mexes and the cloak because Mexes wasn't allowed on top, she could get hurt and Jon really didn't want that. And Jon wasn't supposed to show the cloak to anyone but family, so it had to stay, too. It was okay, Jon still had the locket around his neck, and when he was with his Papa, everything was okay anyway.

“The men found something that I wanted to show you. Let's hope your cousin hasn't poked them too much yet.” His Papa told them as he walked up the stairs with him, Jon scrunched up his nose when it smelled so badly like fish again. His Papa walked over to where Torrhen was crouching with Captain Marten and some other man, they had a bucket and Torrhen had his hand in it.

Of course he had.

“What's in the bucket, Papa?” Jon asked when his Papa set him down, Torrhen stretched out the hand that wasn't in the bucket and Jon reached for it. He could never stand still on top of the ship, he was always falling over. His Papa knelt down behind them and nudged Jon to lean closer to the bucket, it was filled with water.

“Those are seadragons, Jon. Marten had a man catch some because he wanted to show them to you, boys.” Jon looked to the man on his right.  
“Thank you.” He said, because when someone did something for you, you said thank you, and Torrhen always forgot, so Jon made extra sure to say it. Captain Marten smiled and ruffled his hair.

That done he leaned closer until he saw the small fish. Five of them. 

Torrhen had one swimming in his cupped hand and Jon carefully touched it, it was orange and it really looked a bit like a tiny tiny dragon.

“When you go swimming in the sea on Dorne's shores, you can sometimes see these too.” Captain Marten explained, Jon turned to look at his Papa.  
“You said there were no dragons anymore in Westeros, Papa, but there are. They can't fly, but they can swim.” He grinned and his Papa laughed, and then he smiled that funny smile again when he pulled Jon close.

“You're right, my little wolf, Westeros still has dragons.”

\--

The last time Arthur saw Oberyn Martell had been at Harrenhall, at that gods be damned thrice cursed tourney where everything began to fall apart. The very last time they had seen each other had been a day and a half after Rhaegar had lain the crown of winter roses into the lap of Lyanna Stark, and Oberyn had still been on a roll.

And after having a go at Rhaegar himself, Oberyn had chosen him as his next target, storming into Arthur's guard chamber in the early evening. Arthur had tried to catch some sleep before the feast and the following night duty he had coming up.

He had yelled, yelled and snarled and hissed, blaming everything on Arthur's failing in stopping Rhaegar and his mad ideas. Arthur had sat on the bed and taken it, because what else had there been for him to do, saying a word would have only been another flame to the fire in Elia's brother's temper, and hadn't he himself blamed himself for not knowing what Rhaegar had been planning.

Lewyn had gotten between them after Oberyn had screamed down half the castle to get Arthur to fight back. And then Elia and Ashara had turned up and not soon after Rhaegar had appeared with Richard and Myles at his back, it had been such a mess.

And now, seven years almost had passed since Harrenhall. So many people were forever gone in some horrible ways.

Arthur knew that Ashara was looking forward to seeing Oberyn again, but they had been thick as thieves when they were younger, closer at times then Ashara had seemed to be with Elia. Arthur didn't know what to feel, knowing that they were sailing right towards Oberyn know. 

Would he blame Arthur for not having been there? To protect Elia? Protect her and the children? Save her and the children? For not having been at Rhaegar's side at the Trident to prevent him from dying in the first place? Would Oberyn have preferred Arthur to die in place of Rhaegar so that he could have been there to keep his family save? Did Oberyn know that Elia had wanted Arthur to go with Rhaegar?

Was Arthur now sailing towards welcoming arms or a curled fist?

And what about Jon?

Oberyn had always proven that he loved children, all children, that he made no difference between trueborn or bastard, that he made no difference between children of allies or foes.

But did it have a limit?

Everyone you knew Rhaegar closer and for longer than just a brief moment would look upon Jon's eyes and see him. Even if the last five years had turned Jon's eyes that small nuance more violet than Rhaegar's indigo, he still had his father's eyes. The shape of them, Rhaegar's too long eyelashes and especially the look in those eyes.

And even if only seen once, Oberyn would recognize Lyanna in Jon as well. Arthur knew that with so many people he would be able to make something up, convince them easily that Jon was his son, that the perfect reputation of Arthur Dayne had broken, but he wouldn't be able to fool Oberyn. Or Doran, or Elion for that matter.

They saw everything, had learned to see beyond people's intentions and masks, one look at Jon's face and it would all be clear.

Would Oberyn see an innocent child or the reason his sister had to die?

“Papa?”

Arthur blinked himself back into the presence upon the word being formed by pale lips, worked like a charm every time he got himself too work up over something in his head. Four letters and he was back. 

He looked over to where Jon was waddling over to him on deck, it brought a smile to his face as it usually did. With some of Marten's tricks, Jon wasn't feeling as miserable with the seasickness anymore as he had before, even though Arthur knew his belly was still turning at times, so his disgruntled face had become adorable instead of worrisome. And his inability to have his body adjust to an ever moving ground beneath his feet anyway, all in fondness, Arthur would never laugh over his son's troubles.

But smiling over Jon's waddling and staggering was definitely okay.

The five year old looked like a drunk, and it was heartbreakingly adorable.

Especially when you saw Torrhen walking right next to him, feet secure, the Dayne was useful for something more than just violet eyes in him after all.

“Hey there, little wolves.” He said and crouched down, Jon crowded close, security, comfort and also a steady post to lean against. “What are you two up to?”  
“Marten said he will let us steer the ship.” Torrhen answered with a thick grin and even Jon was smiling in excitement, Arthur let his face turn into playful shock, the boys didn't see it still.

“You will steer the ship?” He questioned them frightfully and Jon giggled when he tickled him at the same time, while Torrhen nodded in all seriousness. “Don't sink us. We're so close to home.”  
“Are we?” Jon immediately wanted to know, glancing behind himself out onto the sea, “I only see water.” Sounding as frustrated as a little boy could.

Arthur chuckled and ruffled his hair, letting it stick up even more wildly.

“Not long now, Jon.”

Marten had joked only last night during supper that Jon would take the first island they saw, be it as tiny as it could be, and declare it his new home just for the sake of solid ground beneath his feet. If they ever wanted to have a chance to see the North with the kids, they would have to ride, Jon was not going to go onto another ship until enough time had passed for him to forget this.

If it ever happened.

“Off you go then, keep us on course, boys.”

He watched them scramble away, Torrhen holding Jon's hand because it made it easier for Jon to walk in a straight line. 

It was going to be okay.

Somehow.

Arthur just needed to have a little faith. Not in gods, not in fate, but in old friendship.

\--

“Your mother picked those carpets herself from a Myrish Trader, Oberyn. She would certainly appreciate if they will survive more than just one generation after her.”

Oberyn Martell breathed out a quiet snarl and then stopped his frantic pacing on the gold yellow carpet in what had not too long ago been his mother's solar and was now Doran's. It was a beautiful room in one of Sunspear's Towers, catching sunlight from all sides and Oberyn remembered still how often he had played on these soft carpets while his mother had worked.

His father would sit in the armchair in the corner, reading to Elia, just like he did now with little Trystane while Mellario was gone again. Elion Gargalen, former Prince Consort of Dorne, had only stopped in reading to his grandson of one nameday to keep his youngest trueborn son from pacing them all even more nervous than they already were. 

It had been one and a half moons since news of war in Essos had reached them, and by now it had certainly developed into a competition which castle was more racked by nerves. Starfall, Sunspear or even Salt Shore, even far away Driftmark and the even further away Winterfell, everywhere people were longing for news.

Any sign that their family and friends had made it out of Volantis alive.

Every ship was still looking for Ashara Dayne and two little children. Two, Oberyn's heart squeezed again, two little children. He had met Torrhen Sand, Brandon Stark's bastard son, the result of one wild night in Harrenhall, that blasted tourney, the boy was six, just a little bit younger than Sarella. And then the little one, whose name Oberyn had forgotten again unfortunately, Ashara's daughter, according to Andric no one knew her father.

Two children. One of his best friend's had two children and Oberyn didn't know either of them really, and now he didn't know if they were okay or hurt and he was forced to stay still and...

“Oberyn, you are thinking awfully too loud.” Doran ripped him out of his head and Oberyn made to turn in circles again to get his head to shut up but a sharp look from his father prompted him to drop heavily down into a chair in front of the desk behind which Doran was shifting through letters. Andric Dayne's latest was still placed on the edge of it where Oberyn had read through it earlier.

A short retelling of how Lucerys had not reacted too well to the news that they had kept Arthur's survival from him for five years to keep him safe. A warning really, because Lucerys was back to sailing for Sunspear right now, Oberyn was curious to how Ser Laeno would react, it had been him after all whom Arthur had squired for and not his older brother.

“You should ask Andric again if he needs anything, Doran.” Elion spoke up when silence for once reigned over the room, interrupted only by Trystane's quiet babbling. Oberyn knew his father had had a lifetime of learning how to mask his emotions and Oberyn had learned a lot from him, but not when it came to the lives of loves ones, then Oberyn couldn't remain call. 

Especially not in private.

“Andric is a proud man who is resembling a caged tiger more than anything right now. I will not provoke him unnecessarily while he is worrying for his brother and sister, you know how protective Andric can be, especially when it comes to Arthur.” Doran muttered without looking up from his papers, Oberyn glanced over to his father.

Elion, Andric and the topic of Arthur was usually a question not debated in House Martell. Oberyn was fully aware that his father's pleading towards his mother and Princess Loreza's ultimate decision were what had ended up with Oberyn being free to sail for the world and Arthur being sworn into the Kingsguard. Andric had never really forgiven his foster-father, even when Arthur had.

“Andric's protectiveness over his siblings is exactly the reason on why he will take every help offered to him. He will never ask for it, Doran, you know that, I couldn't get that stubborness out of both your heads when you were children. Andric has a pregnant wife at home, and a younger sister who is with with child for the first time.” Elion pointed out, setting Trystane onto the ground where Doran's youngest toddled over to Oberyn on quick feet. Oberyn grinned and snatched him up, holding his nephew close when Trystane slumped against his chest.

Doran sighed and pushed a hand through his hair and looked up, “I...” but he was interrupted by a fast knocking on the door that got immediately opened despite having not been followed by a call in. Henceforth Oberyn wasn't too surprised to see his youngest half-brother rush into the room before kicking the door shut again.

Talion Sand, a Captain in their trading fleet, looked around the room while catching his breath, Doran had raised one eyebrow, as usual mildly exasperated at his younger siblings' lack of patience. Elion had stood up, his youngest son had been gone for weeks, work couldn't wait, not even when friends were missed.

“I just got back from King's Landing.” Especially not when said work brought you into the lion's den with the potential to snatch up news, “A Lysene Captain from a trading ship who is seeking shelter in the capital until the war is over, he recognized the sun and spear on my ship's flag. He came across Marten.”

“Where?” Elion immediately wanted to know and Oberyn listened closely as well, the older of his two bastard brothers had been gone for even longer and it was him who was often sailing to Volantis, who had earned himself permission to dock and leave the harbor without a ship inspection. Talion smiled, reaching out to take Trystane who was stretching out arms for him.

“Two days out from Volantis. The Captain said when Marten heard about the threat of war, he ordered his crew to make haste towards the city instead of turning around.” Talion brought them the best piece of news in weeks. “If they left the day Marten reached the city or the day after, they should be well on their way to Dorne by now.”

They all breathed a sigh of pure relief before Doran reached for a new scroll, “Now, I need to write Andric. Father, you need to get ready for Lucerys' arrival, he is coming for you, not for me.” Elion rolled his eyes but took his grandson again and turned to leave, “And you, Talion, sit down, is there any other news from King's Landing?”

“Indeed.” Talion continued once the door was closed again, “Rumor has it King Robert is looking for a new Queen.” And the wine Oberyn had previously reached for went everywhere. 

\--

“Ser Barristan.”

Barristan snapped his head up and looked over to where King Robert was approaching on surprisingly near soundless steps, around him his two squires froze where they had been preparing his horse.

The stables were empty of anyone else, just dosing horses after a midday meal, there wasn't even another white cloak in sight and Barristan frowned towards both ends of the stable corridor, Robert caught onto the unasked question easily.

“I dodged him.” Robert gruffly laughed, stepping towards one of the horses that belonged to him, the brown mare pushed his snout into the king's hand. Barristan took a deep breath and brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

'This wouldn't have ever happened under me' He could hear Gerold's voice muttering in his head, 'You were all terrified of me. Terrified of disappointing me. Oswell and Arthur couldn't look me in the eye for two days when they fell asleep in the library with the Prince, and they still knew I was proud of them.'

Barristan sometimes couldn't even remember the first names of the men who called themselves Knights of the Kingsguard under him. Fools most of them, none of them deserving.

“May I have a word with you, Ser Barristan? In private.”

“Certainly, Your Grace.” Barristan answered when he had sorted his thoughts again, surprised over the wish, Robert and him hadn't had a private conversation since Barristan had sworn fealty to him in a tent just off the Trident. He turned to his squires before he could make up any scenarios, “Take the horse into the courtyard, get him ready there and wait for me.”

“Yes, Ser.” They both chorused and rushed out of the stables with his horse, Barristan waited until their steps stopped echoing before he turned back to his king. “How may I be of help, Your Grace?”  
“By telling me the truth.” Robert began without dodging the points or making long curves around it, that at least Barristan could appreciate in him.

Brutal honesty.

Robert wasn't capable of mindgames, Barristan always knew exactly what he was handling, which was nothing you could say about his Queen.

Still he frowned, “The truth about what, Your Grace?” He wanted to know and shifted his weight onto another leg, he had planned to be well on his way already, raid up the last Lannister men hiding themselves away in the woods to cause trouble. Things had gotten better since Jon Arryn had made it abundantly clear that the City Watch better fulfill the duty in its name and stay clear of everything that wasn't the city.

So now, they only had the Lannister soldiers to deal with, and the groups of outlaws the trouble had attracted.

If Barristan heard Tywin Lannister denying his involvment one more time, he would put the man to his sword and demand answers another way.

“The truth about what the Kingslayer thinks to be doing? Jon seems not to understand it, my Queen does not speak to me about it and I must say that I am highly confused by his behavior. First he doesn't want to do anything else but guard his sister day in, day out, fights against any other duty for years and then the freaking Daynes visit and Ser Jaime is off to the Kingswood like a spooked deer. And now I only get him back to the Red Keep for one report in a fortnight. I thought the situation with the Goldcloaks was dealt with?”

Why was the King suddenly interested in being a King?

Barristan would have expected this to come from Jon Arryn. Not from Robert.

Did something happen?

Was there something going on that Barristan hadn't caught onto? Ever since Richard's revelation that the men terrorizing the smallfolk were Lannister soldiers and Goldcloaks, Barristan had stopped forcing himself to be blind and deaf back in the Red Keep. Nothing had seemed out of order in the last few weeks though, nothing aside from the ever present tension between Queen and King, between Jon Arryn and Tywin Lannister who just wouldn't leave the capital, no matter how many times Jon Arryn politely asked him to.

“Permission to speak freely, Your Grace?” Barristan decided that head first into this might as well be the best strategy, Robert impatiently waved for him to go on, at least that was familiar, “Do you remember the Kingswood Brotherwood? And how they were finally taken down?”  
“Who bloody doesn't?” Robert grunted in response, “Womenfolk all over the Seven Kingdoms been singing for their gallant White Knight for ages. You felt like a savage when they stared at their Sword of the Morning, swooned when he gave them those bloody shy smiles all while blushing like a maiden.”

Alright, those were the most pleasant words Barristan had heard Robert speak about Arthur in years.

How had Oswell put it so often? 'We're not calling him White Knight because of his cloak, folks'. Barristan was tempted to make that joke again, about how Arthur's cloak had been whiter than white and he had so easily been able to blush like a maiden because he had in fact still been untouched when he had been sworn into the Kingsguard. 

Arthur had never been bothered by it.

“So you know that the loyalty and the support of the smallfolk in the Kingswood villages is tricksy at best. They don't trust city folk, whether they be a common merchant from Flea Bottom or a higborn Lord. That we managed to gain their support against the Brotherwood was alone Arthur's deed.” Barristan explained, feeling like he was walking on thin ice.

Was this some test of loyalty?

And then it ran down his back in ice cold shivers.

Had someone overheard Jaime and him talking?

“I'm not doubting the man's charme. Nor his skill. It's a pity a warrior like him stood on the wrong side.” Robert admitted and Barristan had to fight to keep his face together.   
“Ser Jaime is doing his best to achieve even half the trust, it will still take him time, but he is also our only shot.” Barristan went on and Robert snorted, both of them knew that the rest of the Kingsguard Knights neither knew how to spell charme nor owned any.

He also wondered how difficult it had to be sometimes as well for the generation that Robert Baratheon and Jaime Lannister belonged to, where a man would always be measured up to the honor and skill the likes of Arthur Dayne had shown. 

Every generation had their shadows to live up to. May they be from the one before or from one and the same. Gerold had in his time shouldered the pressure of being Lord Commander of the Kingsguard after Ser Duncan the Tall and Barristan knew those had been impossible shoes to fill already.

But how would someone ever step into the shoes of the miracle child?

“Tell the Kingslayer he is to return to King's Landing. And you as well. The Kingswood has to wait for a fortnight. There will soon be some changes and I need men around that I can trust.” Robert clarified and once more Barristan had to use a lot of energy to keep himself from showing his confusion. “I hope I can still count on you, Selmy.”

Robert looked tired. And sober. Something was definitely going on.

“Certainly, Your Grace. I was riding to join up with Ser Jaime anyway, I will talk with him and we will return upon first light tomorrow.” Barristan promised and then twitched when Robert slapped a hand to his shoulder before he turned to walk away again, Barristan was so confused. Halfway down the corridor of the stables, Robert stopped and turned around again.

“Oh, and Ser Barristan?” Barristan looked over to him, wondering what he had to offer up still to throw this picture even more into the bizarre, “We got some news that all of Dorne is looking for Ashara Dayne and her children. Seems she is alive after all. I thought that might interest you.”  
“It does, Your Grace.” Barristan thanked him, helpless to keep the smile from showing then, there could barely be any better news except solid proof that it really was true. Robert nodded and then walked off.

Leaving Barristan behind to turn the other way to finally get to his horse, mind mulling over the strangely tame behavior of the king. May it be happening? Truly? Was Robert Baratheon turning against the lions?

He was already quite down to the courtyard when he stopped short and stared at his squires quietly talking, one of them holding the reigns of Barristan's saddled horse.

Her children.

Ashara's children?

There were children?

\--

The stars of her childhood.

It was like something in her chest sealed itself together again when she went up at night a few short days before they reached Dorne and saw the Morning Star in the night sky. She had stared at it for hours, spent the entire rest of the night making out the star signs every child of House Dayne learned of the moment they could open their eyes.

They meant home.

They always guided you home.

No matter where you found yourself in Westeros, the Morning Star always brought you right back to Starfall, over which it shone the brightest. 

She remembered a night sitting on the shore of the God's Eye, aside from the Isle of Faces no other shore in sight on the large lake and for a moment it had been so easy to pretend that she was back home. Brandon sitting behind her, with her leaned back against his chest, his arms around her. She was watching the night sky, pointing out the signs, telling stories about each of them.

And Brandon had listened, so easily listened because he had wanted to, not because he had indulged her to get under her skirts. The people had always only ever seen this Wild Wolf in him, people who didn't know the real him, the man behind the name. This man whose heart had beaten and bled for his family, for the few people he dared to let close.

He had let her see it, feel it, have it, his wonderful big heart. They had understood each other, this need to be free, to see the world, to experience live while they had it. To just live.

She had fallen in love with him so quickly over the course of just one tourney that it had scared her, feeling for someone so deeply. Her parents had loved each other, but their match had been arranged, they had come to love each other. Andric and Eyrin had a strong love, had married for love, but they had met as children, they had fallen in love over the course of years in their youth.

It wasn't the first time Ashara had felt something close to love for someone. Oberyn had been the first, fifteen and head over heels for him, but she had also been young and he had been a fire burning too hot even for her. Those feelings had quickly burned away, back to the deep rooted friendship they had had. After she had given her maidenhood to him, nevermind what her brothers, what the people had been thinking.

Beautiful perfect Ashara had been no maiden anymore when Brandon Stark had laid her down in his tent one night. Sleeping with the Winterfell heir while right in the tent next to them, her own brother was delivering secret letters to Brandon's little sister, couldn't have that been so awkward.

After leaving with Elia for King's Landing, she had found herself entranced by Barristan Selmy, his kind eyes, his warm voice. Another man with whom it could never be. He had been so polite, so kind to her, they had danced on tourney feasts and Ashara knew that if Barristan had unhorsed Rhaegar in Harrenhall, he would have crowned her. 

It would have been so worth it, alone to see the look on her brother's face. Arthur would have gotten a stroke if she had ever breathed a word about Selmy to him, would have gotten that twitchy eyelid if she had ever told him about the other flowers that she had actually gotten from Barristan. Elia had known, of course she had, Ashara had needed someone to talk about it, even Rhaegar she had talked to about it on Dragonstone, far away from the whispers of court.

Elia had warned her to be careful, to keep her heart from getting hurt. Rhaegar, who of course had been fooling around with his very own Kingsguard Knight – her own brother, thank the Sevens they had been discreet – he had only told her to be happy and not expect anything where nothing could develop.

Her love for Brandon had come like the sandstorms in the Red Mountains. So fast and unforgiving, so unexpected and all-consuming. It had been a fortnight of pure happiness, aside from Rhaegar's stunt, and then reality had called her back to King's Landing and Brandon to his wedding in the Riverlands.

She had sworn herself to forget him, to move on, to let her grieve mourn that joy for a while and then be ready for adventure once more. And then her belly had swollen with life. Arthur had panicked, Rhaegar had kept it together but been too distracted with his own plans, only Elia had had her head on her neck and arranged for her to be sent back to Starfall without it causing more of a scandal than it already was.

Andric had sighed upon her arrival, but then simply taken her in his arms and promised her that it would be okay. She hadn't told him that Torrhen was Brandon's until after Brandon had been dead.

And as she sat there on deck, the picture of her brother buried under the three chilren on the bed in the Captain's Cabin still very much on her mind, she knew that even if she had sworn herself to forget, Brandon's horrible death had made it impossible. Everything that had happened after Rhaegar had run off with Lyanna had made it impossible. 

She had tried, the Seven knew she had tried. As terrible as it was to think about it now, she had even tried to get rid of the babe. Again and again in the beginning, because Torrhen had refused to die. Eyrin had stopped her before Ashara could have endangered her own life even more, had promised her that if she really didn't want the babe, they would find a way, Oberyn had offered up to take it as his own to make it easier on her. 

Afterwards she was happy, still so happy over her darling boy, so happy that she hadn't forgotten even the tiniest bit of her love for Brandon Stark. 

He was up there now, with the stars, looking down on them and protecting their wild boy, another eye to keep him from harm, because the gods only knew he would need it. He was with her when the stars were bright, with his strong arms still around her.

She was so close to Dorne now, so close to home, and one day she would go North. She would take Torrhen and Rhaena now and show them the lands that the man she loved so much still had lived for. She would show Torrhen where the other half of his blood came from, wanted to feel it herself, the cold, the snow, see the mighty greatness of Winterfell, and step in front of his grave in the crypts and tell him of the wonderful son they had made.

One day it would be possible for her to be free in Westeros again, those stags would not sit that throne forever. It had been forged by dragons, it would be seated by a dragon again. Ashara had made sure of it by giving birth to a perfect little girl who was the balm on her heart as much as Torrhen was the fire in her veins. She had wanted a second child so much, a daughter to cherish just like her mother had done with her, so what if she had combined that wish with a strategic move for Jon's future.

A woman, even a Dornish one, didn't always have a sword to fight with, she needed to find her weapons somewhere else.

'If this was a different world, I would sweep you away, travel the world with you, lay with you in all corners of the world' Brandon had whispered to her on one of their last nights together and Ashara had snorted but smiled. 'Our children would think the nightsky their home and the world their playing field.'

But it hadn't been a different world, and all that she had left were memories. And promises. Promises she had made to herself the first night they had sailed away from Dorne.

“Shara!” Her childhood nickname from the Water Gardens had her look around to where Marten was standing behind the wheel not too far from her. She walked over to him and let her eyes follow along the arm he stretched out to point into the nightsky ahead of them. Ashara smiled and accepted the arm he laid in a brotherly fashion around her shoulders, drawing her close.

“Wished for something already?” She asked and he chuckled before nodding, watching the shower of falling stars around the Morning Star.  
“Of course, I did.” Marten said, “Falling stars in the night before we lay eyes on Dorne, can there be a better sign that this is a blessed return?” Ashara let her smile brighten up further, he was right.

It was a sign. A sign that her gods were still with her, that they had listened to her.

“Are we that close yet?” She asked when Marten's words really settled into her chest, heart growing, warming, skin tingling with the memory of sun, her nose could almost smell the orange trees.  
“The winds were kind, by first light this morning Dorne will grow before us.” Marten promised and she didn't feel childish for the small cry of joy that left her lips.

Home.

Coming home under falling stars.

'One day.' She heard her old promise again, 'One day the time will be right and all wrongs will be rightened. They tried to destroy us, Brandon, tried to take everything away from our family names, but we will not let them. I will not let them. Our blood runs with the strength of the First Men, and no dragons or stags will burn that away. Winter is Coming, let's see how furious the stags can be when the snow is up to their necks, how loud the lions are still roaring when the cold is freezing the blood in their throats. Even in the deepest winter, her stars would still guide her to her goals.'

\--

Ashara dragged them all on deck when the distant towers of Sunspear turned up on the horizon in the still low sun of the early morning. Arthur's jaw cracked with a yawn when he followed his sister to the railing, in his arms Jon mirrored the gesture and then slumped right back against his shoulder.

Early mornings were really not their thing.

In Ashara's arms, Rhaena hadn't even made it up the few steps of stairs before she had once more fallen asleep, Arthur wished his sister had let him sleep a little longer as well, it would still take them hours to reach the Water Gardens with how little wind there was.

Torrhen of course was right back to the height of his energy just a split brief moment after opening his eyes, Arthur envied him for it so much. He only grabbed onto the back of his nephew's tunic as Torrhen leaned over the railing to see more of the approaching land.

Dorne.

Home.

It was not Starfall and Sunspear had never been his home, nor had the Water Gardens, that had been for Andric and Ashara, but they were still Dorne.

And Dorne would always be home.

Now here was to hoping Oberyn wouldn't strangle him on sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got way longer than I had anticipated.


	4. Home - Part III - The Water Gardens

The ship anchored at the docks of the harbor that had belonged to the Water Gardens ever since Sunspear had needed a bigger newer one for the increased trade and the grown size of the ships. Marten went from board and told them to remain behind until he came back with his brother, they were home but even here they would need to be careful still.

“I'm five steps away from Westeros.” Ashara giggled where she was pacing up and down in front of the upper end of the plank that led down from the ship. The Dayne knights were patiently waiting with their things, Milo probably having his hands full with a fussy lizard. Jon was a nervous ball of displeasure at everything and the lizard had soaked that all up like a sponge.

Docking at the harbor and the waves surrounding the small bay of the Water Gardens had sent Jon's seasickness right back up to the height of the beginning of their trip. And Arthur was convinced that if the boy had even an ounce more of dragonblood in himself his glowering eyes would have set the ship on fire by now. He had thrown up again, belly aching now and he had supposedly thrown the very first temper tantrum of his life when Arthur had needed to tell him that he needed to wear the dark purple cloak with the hood instead of the black Targaryen wedding cloak.

Arthur had simply waited it out, wrapped up the black cloak and pushed it down under Jon's books in one of the chests. Torrhen who had initially come down to tell them they had docked had looked at his cousin as if he had grown a second head. Spell over again and Jon had put on the purple cloak himself before stretching up arms, apologies following when Arthur had hugged him close.

And now they were standing on deck, watching Marten's crew unload crates with the help of those stationed as workers on the harbor. Not too far from the harbor docks, the green oasis of the Water Gardens with the white palace was waiting, the distant sound of loud children's laughter and shrieking would be heard.

Something in his chest was clicking together.

Welcome back, son of Dorne.

\--

They went down to wait on the pier when the crew needed more room to shift crates and boxes, and though she was holding her daughter, Ashara was almost bouncing as much as Torrhen who was looking around with burning interest. The need to explore was basically written into his face every time he went to his tippy toes to catch a better sight of the harbor market. 

Arthur looked up when he saw a crowd breaking apart to make room for the man clad in yellow robes who was rushing down the harbor street. Some people bowed or even curtsied but the man with the dark eyes had no sight for it, too busy staring at them as his feet carried him onto the pier. 

He stopped only once and Arthur reached out to take Rhaena when Ashara's eyes were already filling with tears. 

„Go.“ He whispered to her quietly and Ashara didn't let herself be offered twice, she gathered her skirts and rushed along the wooden construction. Prince Oberyn caught her with wide unbelieving eyes, closed his eyes then and buried his face in her hair. Arthur remained where he was standing, Rhaena in his arms curiously watching her mother and this stranger. 

Standing next to him with his hands propped up against his hips, Torrhen was frowning a little, at their surroundings, at the people and at his mother hugging a stranger. Arthur kept his hood pulled deep into his face and only glanced around himself briefly to assure himself Jon was still wearing his as well, but Jon was hiding against the back of his legs so much that it wouldn't have mattered any other way.

“Who is that, Uncle?“ Torrhen asked quietly for once when Oberyn and Ashara broke apart again after a long while, Oberyn holding her arm as they walked over. Arthur, who had just been instructing Milo to tell the men to unload their chests for it seemed they had nothing to fear of not being welcomed, turned to him and ruffled his hair.

“Oberyn Martell. He is an old friend of ours, Torrhen.Your Mama spent a lot of time here when she was a child. And he is a Prince of Dorne, his brother rules over these lands.“ Arthur explained, he was tired, weary really, exhausted and worn thin by the paranoia of the last weeks. He had barely slept since they had left Volantis, the children fussy and clearly scared by their rushed departure in the beginning, and once they had calmed again, Arthur's own head had acted up. Which in turn had affected Jon and Rhaena again, proven by how Jon was still clinging to him and how Rhaena immediately reached for her mother when Ashara was even remotely close enough. 

Arthur himself found himself jostled forward when Oberyn pulled him into a hug and he made to hold on hesitantly, shocked maybe over the gesture. Arthur had enough fear inside himself to wonder again how much the other man would hate him for things he had done and hadn't done. 

“Stop your thinking, you bloody fool.“ Oberyn snapped at him in the next moment, still not making any moves to let go, “You were never to blame for it, you idiot. For two years I thought you dead, thought both of you dead.“ Oberyn continued as he finally pulled back, slapping a hand to Arthur's shoulder for good measure, Arthur could feel Jon cling even tighter to his leg. „When Andric finally gave in and told me I could have slapped him silly. Bloody Seven Hells, I would have fucking helped!“

Arthur stared at him, unable to find words while Oberyn smirked at him, looking like he hadn't changed at all.

“Does he always say so many bad words?“ Torrhen spoke up out of the blue and all three adults looked down at him frowning up at Oberyn. Violet eyes were narrowed, his hands still stemmed into his hips, he looked about as disapproving as a six year old child with the face of Brandon Stark could.   
“Torrhen.“ Ashara belatedly called out, looking mildly embarassed but also highly amused, “You cannot just say something like that. He is a Prince of your home country.“

“Ah, none of that.“ Oberyn disagreed, going down on one knee and holding out a hand, „The young man is right after all, one shouldn't use those words in the presence of young ones. It is an honor to meet you, I am...“  
“Prince Oberyn Martell.“ Torrhen finished the sentence for him and Ashara sighed but also smiled when Torrhen bowed his head briefly. “Uncle explained. I am Torrhen Sand, son of Ashara Dayne and Brandon Stark.“ It had become Torrhen's favourite sentence, Arthur had heard him mumble it in his sleep even. Oberyn grinned, shaking the hand that Torrhen reached out in the end.

He straightened up again, eyes going to Rhaena who was curiously peaking out from behind her hair at him, “And this, I suppose, is the little Lady who has Andric in a spin?“ Oberyn chuckled and Ashara rolled her eyes, but smiled when Oberyn stroked a hand over small fingers, Rhaena grinned at him, “You are a beauty, little one. You wanna tell me your name?“

“Rhaena.“

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.“ Oberyn finished, looking from Ashara to Arthur, and then down to the figure hiding himself perfectly against Arthur's right leg, Jon had even pulled parts of Arthur's own cloak around himself. “Oh, now, has Andric forgotten how to count?“ Oberyn said in true surprise, Arthur was amused but mostly also relieved that not even Oberyn had gotten wind of Jon yet. Safe, his mind provided, if not even Oberyn with his contacts and charme learned anything, no one else had either. “Or do you have something to tell your brother, Arthur?“

Knowing that he was truly only seeing real curiosity and no judgement in Oberyn's eyes, Arthur reached down and picked Jon up, careful to keep the hood over his head. Jon buried his face against his shoulder though, arms slipping around his neck, he was miserable, this whole hurried flight out of what he had known to be their home had shaken him up badly, being faced with strangers and so many new impressions wasn't helping. 

“It's complicated.“ Arthur offered up, trying to coax Jon into showing himself, Oberyn had stepped closer, one eyebrow raised. “Something we should probably take inside, without prying eyes or ears.“ Oberyn's other eyebrow followed the first.  
“What did you do, White Knight?“ Oberyn asked him, two fingers tapping against a bony shoulder but Jon didn't react, “Oh now, little one, am I that scary?“

Arthur was funnily reminded of the first time Rhaenys had met her uncle, hiding against her mother's skirts and her father's boots, even if she had been far far younger than Jon, just able to clumsily walk a little. 

“He doesn't like strangers.“ Torrhen jumped up to Jon's defense, “And the bad men in Volantis scared him, a woman hurt him. He also really doesn't like going with the ship.“ Oberyn grimaced in understanding and nodded, taking a step back again.  
“Aye, I understand that of course. Gods, when we heard the news about the troubles in Essos, Doran wrote Andric immediately but he hadn't heard anything from you. We were so worried.“ Oberyn began as he waved them down the pier, giving some intructions to Milo on where to bring their chests and where the men could find rooms to rest, going so far as to tell some guards to help them. “We've sent ships looking for Ashara out immediately. As did your brother and the Gargalens. Lucerys has been chasing his ship up and down the Dornish coast like a mad man.” 

„It was terrible.“ Ashara began as they walked towards the Water Gardens, making sure Torrhen staid at her side, „From one day to the next they turned on the foreigners. We knew about the conflicts with Lys, we just never expected them to turn hostile towards us. Our whole household safe the guards turned on us.“  
„You're here now.“ Oberyn soothed her nerves, „You're back home, Shara, Dorne will protect you. I will protect you.“ The sounds of the harbor market swallowed them up, Martell guards building a protective bubble around them. „Let's get you inside. Get you some rest.“

„Mexes.“ Arthur heard Jon whimper quietly against his ear and he tightened his arms around him, making some soothing humming noises.  
„Soon, I promise. We'll get inside and Milo will bring her to you.“ He promised, leaning his head against Jon's, „You'll have her soon.“ Around them smallfolk watched, curious and some of them certainly recognizing Ashara.

Would they rejoice with bright smiles upon seeing him without a hood as well? Or would the fruit come flying for his head?

And then they stepped into the Water Gardens, Ashara sighed, her whole body relaxing into a feeling of being home, Arthur could see it all. He smiled at the sound of playing children, even when it was dulled as Oberyn led them into the palace, Arthur still knew it enough to know they were heading for Oberyn's apartments. The Prince himself called out to some maids to have guest chambers readied and for someone named Ellaria to be told.

\--

Arthur felt like he could breathe again when he took off the cloak inside Oberyn's sitting room, stretching his neck and accepting the cups of wine Oberyn handed him and Ashara. Torrhen was curiously peeking through the banisters of the balcony, down at the pools, Arthur knew the question would come soon, the kid had too much energy.

Ashara had sat down on the divan with Rhaena, cloaks taken off and breathing in the smells of her childhood, already looking way more settled.

Something that couldn't be said for the bedraggled looking lump of cloak and tunics on the blue settee. Jon would not become a fan of ship travel in this life, Arthur knew that now. Arthur threw back the wine and then knelt down in front of Jon, knowing that he had Oberyn's eyes on them both as he reached out to pushed the hood and cloak off of Jon.

He ignored Oberyn. He needed to know his son was doing okay first.

„You okay?“ He wanted to know and Jon looked up at him, distantly he heard Oberyn gasp, but Jon let him ignore it when he reached up with both arms, apparently not inclined to say another word for now. Arthur couldn't blame him, „Come here, little wolf, I got you. We're safe now, hm, we're gonna be okay. No more bad men. And no more ships.“ He promised while Jon wrapped arms around his neck and buried his face in Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur straightened up again, one hand stroking over Jon's back, and turned to face Oberyn. Dorne's younger Prince was gaping at him.  
„I would love to have a witty line right now over finally having rendered you speechless.“ Arthur said with a blooming smile, „But I am actually just so happy that not even you were able to have even the slightest suspicions.“ Oberyn snapped his mouth shut and then reached up with both hands to drag them down his face. He looked over to Ashara who offered him a smile before holding out her cup of wine to him.

Oberyn took it and emptied it quickly, refilling it even quicker before he turned to face Arthur again.

„Suddenly a lot of Elia's letters are making a hell of a lot more sense. Bloody gods!“ Oberyn cursed and set to drink more wine, Arthur bit his lips to keep from laughing, relief falling into his tense shoulders like the soothing warm water of a bath after a long battle.

„He said bad words again.“

„Torrhen!“

Defiantly his nephew didn't shrink away from his mother's sharp tone and just continued to scowl at Oberyn whose amused smirk grew. “Oh, my daughters are gonna love you.” He noted and sank down on one of the settees, Arthur did as well on the one across from him, Jon settling comfortably against his chest, face still hidden away.   
“How many are there now?” Ashara wanted to know as if there hadn't just been a cache of wildfire being dropped with world changing revelations. Arthur glanced at his sister but found her too occupied with setting Rhaena to her feet and smoothing down her daughter's dress to catch his eyes. Only when Rhaena toddled over to Torrhen on the balcony did Ashara look up again, and then over to Oberyn and not him.

“Five.” Oberyn answered with a grin and Arthur blinked at him, the last number he had had was smaller. Obara he had met, Nymeria and Tyene he had only heard of. “Got me one by a trader from the Summer Isles. And my paramour gave me my little Elia, must be of one age with your Rhaena. Ellaria is expecting our second one.” Oberyn explained and they both smiled at him, seemed like there was a woman yet capable of keeping him for longer after all.

“What exactly did Elia write you?” Arthur drew the conversation back to the elephant in the room, or better said the little wolf drowsing off against Arthur's shoulder. Oberyn looked at the back of Jon's head and smiled, taking more of the remaining tension off of Arthur's shoulders.  
“She told me that she knew what Rhaegar was planning and that we had to stand down and let him. She wrote me that she was sure Rhaegar would take his little she-wolf to Dorne because she would be safe there.” Oberyn explained calmly, “I don't know if she ever heard about Lyanna Stark being with child but I think it would have brought a smile to her face.”

“There is a lot left to explain.”

“And I will hear it all, but not today. You had a long exhausting journey and I will not push you to talk for hours about the painful parts of the past. I also think this is a conversation better had without the children around.” Oberyn proposed and Arthur nodded in gratitude, even if Jon was too exhausted to catch on, Torrhen certainly would have his ears everywhere.

“When can I meet this Lady Ellaria?” Ashara chose to leave unpleasant business behind, pushing for more information about Oberyn's paramour, Arthur leaned back and let them squabble. Some tickling of Jon's side had the desired wish of violet eyes peeking up at him.  
“You wanna introduce yourself, little wolf? I can promise you Prince Oberyn is a good man.” Arthur tried quietly, Jon seemed thoughful but then shook his head and went back into hiding.

\--

It felt like a dream that he found himself sitting here with one of his best friends and her brother who if not friend was at least family in some way. He found himself looking over them and the children while Ashara and him talked, reminiscing about old, about the new.

It felt so easy.

They all looked tired, weary from the long journey but relieved to be home and safe once more. Oberyn certainly felt relieved, so relieved to know that his friends were safe and sound once more, and back in Westeros, back where he could do something himself to keep them safe.

As a father was prone to do his eyes were drawn to the children by default, keeping up conversation with Ashara and waiting for Ellaria to finally arrive not enough to preoccupy his mind. 

Torrhen Sand looked every bit the son of the Wild Wolf, only his eyes giving proof to his mother's blood in his veins. The boy was still mingling about on the balcony, eyes peering down at the pools, so far he hadn't asked but Oberyn could see the question building up in that loud little mind. His little half sister, looking like the light to his darkness, was glued to his side, looking down at the playing children as well. Oberyn would try to weasel Ashara into telling him about the little beauty's father when they had a moment alone in the next days.

The second boy in the room, still hiding away against Arthur's chest and shoulder, was a skinny little twig. His dark hair, the wild locks, his long face, it all gave away to who his mother had been if you had ever seen Lyanna Stark. And Oberyn had, he had her face burned into his mind ever since Harrenhall and a crown of blue winter roses. 

Those eyes though. Even as little as Oberyn had seen of them...the boy had Rhaegar's eyes, a little darker maybe, but they were Rhaegar's eyes. Rhaenys' brother, Aegon's brother, not of Elia's blood but of Rhaegar's and Oberyn knew that it wouldn't have mattered to his beautiful kind sister. He was longing to hear the story from Arthur, wanted to bring clarity into all those questions he had about the events that had unfolded after Harrenhall, events that his sister had never written in full explanation over, knowing that her letters were read before being sent.

Arthur though would of course know it all in detail, Oberyn had no doubt that the one person who had only ever truly held Rhaegar's heart until Harrenhall would know what his prince had been planning, and why he had done it.

As much as he longed to bring his late sister's husband back from the dead just so he could punch him in the face, Oberyn also knew that Arthur was not to blame for Rhaegar's actions. Least of all was the boy to blame for the actions of his parents, you didn't blame the son for the actions of the father.

Or those of his grandfather.

Oberyn would not rest until the Lannisters and Baratheons had felt the venom of a viper's bite, each and every one of them, but he had time.

Torrhen's silence broke away to insistent pleading when their conversation came to a pause and Oberyn smiled at the huff in Ashara's breath as she turned to her children. He was happy for her, she had been so broken after Brandon Stark's murder but her children had brought the light back into her heart and eyes.

His attention was pulled back to Arthur, or more specifically to the boy on his lap who was turning around just then, settling himself back against Arthur's chest instead of hiding in it. He still looked miserable, Oberyn was reminded of how much Tyene had hated going by ship, but those violet eyes were also filled with a little curiosity now as the boy tugged on Arthur's sleeve.

“Mexes, Papa?” He asked once he could be sure of the man's attention and Oberyn wasn't really surprised at the address, of course Arthur would fill the role that Rhaegar had abandoned with his death. Would Rhaenys and Aegon have been so close to him as well if his sister had been allowed to flee instead of being imprisoned and sentenced to die with them?

“Ser Milo is surely already on his way, Jon. You'll have her soon. Come on, drink a little, hm?” Arthur prodded a bit and though the boy pouted he accepted the cup of lemon water that Oberyn had poured for all children. Torrhen was still working on his mother but Oberyn could sense the boy watching him while he in turn watched Jon.

The name was a surprise. Truly a surprise really.

Arthur caught the look in his eyes and laughed, stroking a hand over the curly haired head of Jon who was done with the water and was stuck in a staring contest with his cousin now.

“It's not for him if you think that.” Arthur began and Oberyn knew he meant Connington, “He didn't like Lyanna.” Oberyn snorted, of course he didn't, how would he ever like someone who held Rhaegar's attention when he didn't. “It's even less so for Arryn. Lyanna hated him. It's for one of the Kings of Winter, but I'll explain everything.”

“And I'll wait. Hello, Jon.” Oberyn tried his luck and violet eyes snapped over to look up at him, no words followed, “It's an honor to meet you, young man.” There was no immediate response to that either but little Jon glanced over to Torrhen Sand who in turn gave a nod that was so small Oberyn would have barely caught it.

Before Jon could have made up his mind over any words to say though, it knocked on the door and Ellaria stepped in with Elia on her hip.

“I have to apologize my lateness, three girls speaking at the same time and not one of them getting down to the point...it took a moment for me to understand what was going on.” Ellaria explained as she walked into the room, Oberyn stood up and kissed her once she was close enough, taking Elia from her. His so far youngest daughter was curiously looking around the room until her eyes zeroed in on the only other girl in the room, Rhaena was grinning at her within the next moment and Elia wriggled to be put down.

While the girls met each other in a babble of words and half-sentences, Oberyn introduced Ellaria to the others. “My friends, this is Ellaria Sand, my love and paramour.” He wrapped an arm around her rounded middle, even as Ashara came forward and briefly hugged Ellaria.  
“It is a joy to meet you. I would love to pretend I have heard of you.” Ashara said and dug a sharp elbow against Oberyn's chest as if it had been his fault she had been gone for five years.

“I have heard a many great things of you, my Lady.”

“Oh please, none of that. I shall look forward to make a new friend in you, Ellaria, someone pinning down Oberyn is definitely becoming my friend.” Ashara smirked and Oberyn scowled at her, next to her Torrhen stretched up a hand and introduced himself. Some more greetings later they got comfortable again.

“I told Tyene to sent a letter to Starfall, to make sure they will know as soon as possible. Marten made for Sunspear to tell Doran himself.”

Andric would know, his brother would soon know they were safe and they were going to see their family again. 

“Probably not my role to tell you this, but when did that ever bother me.” Oberyn began with a bright grin, “But Eyrin is with child again. And Allyria is carrying her first one.” Ashara gasped and then laughed, so happy over the news. Arthur closed his eyes and smiled, leaning back on the settee, things were good for them again finally.

\--

You were supposed to love your family.

Even as a Kingsguard you didn't just turn your back on your family, a white cloak didn't mean you just forgot the one you had worn before. You didn't become a different person and stopped being the one you had been before.

Lewyn hadn't stopped being a Prince of Dorne. Gerold hadn't stopped being a Hightower just as much as Arthur hadn't stopped being a Dayne, bickering included. Oswell hadn't stopped being a Whent, most proven when he had brought up the more disturbing kind of ghost stories from growing up in Harrenhall of all places. Jonothor hadn't stopped being a Darry and being close to his brother, the master-at-arms for the King. 

You just became more. A part of something bigger.

Unless of course you wanted the escape.

Jaime hadn't, not until now.

He had always been proud of being a Lannister. Being a Lannister had made it possible for him to come to court with his father at just two and ten. Being a Lannister had made it possible for him to get close to the Kingsguard while being just a kid still.

A kid who only two days after their arrival in King's Landing had been present in the great throne hall while Arthur Dayne had knelt on the stone as Lord Commander Gerold Hightower had clasped the white cloak to his shoulders. Great renowned warriors and the wonder child, had any boy wanting to be a knight dreamt of anything else but joining these brothers?

Ten years later, no boy in the Seven Kingdoms dreamt of joining the Kingsguard anymore. 

Jamie was two and twenty, only two and twenty and still, every step taken at court made him feel like an old man. It was only out the Kingswood, helping smallfolk boys learn how to hold a sword, going out with villagers to go against the outlaws and some rogue Lannister soldiers, that he felt alive. Alive and young and like he still had a purpose.

They had stopped calling him Ser Lannister, stopped calling him Kingslayer or Oathkeeper, at least those two villages Richard had entrusted into his care. They just called him Ser Jaime.

For now though he was needed at court. And he understood.

He understood even better what Robert was asking of him.

You were supposed to love your family.

Until you can't anymore.

Until they crossed a line and went too far. Until they stopped being your family and instead became a danger to the very people you were sworn to protect. The King. The young. The innocent. 

The realm.

No more easy decisions, the right ones had to follow.

Passing by the men in sky blue cloaks, Jamie knocked his fist against the closed door, opening it and stepping inside the solar of the Hand of the King once he was called in. Jon Arryn looked up in surprise, his desk burried almost under parchments and books. Jamie closed the door and sat down in one of the two chairs standing in front of the desk. “Before I talk and give you everything I know, and everything I found out in the last days, there is something I need. A promise of sorts.”

Jon Arryn raised an eyebrow, “Let me hear your condition then, my time is precious in these days as you might understand.” Jamie nodded, he understood, he understood so well but he knew even more that every word that would soon follow would change everything.

Hopefully to the better.

“My brother becomes Lord of Casterly Rock.” He stated his condition and Jon Arryn dropped the writing feather, all attention on Jaime now, “Not my uncle. Not any cousin. My brother.”

“You have my word.”

Jaime breathed out and began. 

\--

The sight of that damned green lizard had certainly never made Arthur any happier than right then when Milo bowed for Oberyn before crossing through the room and setting the basket down for Arthur. He took his leave again then quickly, certainly looking forward to get some rest in a place where safety was sure to them again.

“Look who is here, Jon.“ Arthur coaxed him out of hiding and Jon hesitantly looked up and then down, thin lips breaking out into a smile finally. He went so far as to scramble down from Arthur's legs to sit on the ground, leaned back against them as his hands made quick work of the basket's top. Meraxes hurried out and into her master's lap as if nothing in the world was more important, Jon wrapped both arms around the lizard and giggled when she began licking his face.

Arthur caught Oberyn's stunned look and laughed. 

„I don't know why I expected a pup or a kitten.“ Oberyn admitted with a snort, taking his arm from around Ellaria's shoulders and slowly getting down onto the ground. Jon's eyes were on him within the next moment and Torrhen appeared like a conjured shadow right at Arthur's knee. It would take time until Jon stopped doubting every new face, time until Torrhen stopped being so spectacularly territorial.

Though if Arthur's experiences with Brandon Stark at Harrenhall were any indication, it might as well be permanent.

Not that he would complain about it.

„I had a kitten but he got sick and died a year ago.“ Torrhen explained with a little tinge of sadness, Oberyn gave him an understanding smile, „This is Meraxes, she's Jon's. I wouldn't touch her until Jon says it's okay. She can bite. She doesn't like people who don't like Jon.“  
„Understood.“ Oberyn confirmed with a fond smile, „How did you find a lizard, Jon?“ He wanted to know then, Jon looked from Oberyn to Torrhen who nodded, Arthur noted it all with a faint smile.

„She found me.“

„Now that is a story I'd like to hear one day but I fear right now we're about to get some more company.“ Oberyn explained and got back to his feet, Arthur heard the footsteps thundering closer as well and leaned forward to stroke a calming hand through Jon's hair, Torrhen looked at the door and cocked his head to the side. 

The door crashed open in the next moment and a sea of children spilled in, Arthur recognized only two of them as their eyes quickly swept around the room and the three oldest then rushed forward with a loud cry of „Ashara“. His sister laughed and opened her arms, gladly accepting the three girls who threw themselves at her, leaving a younger girl to remain standing in the open door. She only stepped forward when Oberyn held out a hand, Arthur guessed her to be another one of the Sandsnakes then. 

„While my niece and my oldest reaquaint themselves with Ashara. Sarella, I want to introduce you to our new guests. This is Ser Arthur Dayne, I know your sisters have told you about him. And these are Torrhen and Jon.“ Arthur smiled at the shy look he got from Oberyn's daughter, she couldn't be much older than eight. 

Little Elia and Rhaena had halted in their play, round eyes watching Ashara laughing under the weight of Princess Arianne and her cousins Obara and Nymeria. Torrhen eyed the girls with a little bit of trepidation but mostly curiosity, Arianne and Nymeria were wearing the same easy flowing gowns Arthur was used to from visits to the Water Gardens but Obara was dressed more like her father, clearly still all warrior.

It was her as well who turned away from Ashara first and her dark eyes found Arthur, she grinned, all teeth and threat. Arthur laughed, holding out a hand, Obara knocked a fist against his. „Tomorrow you shall show me if your father's teaching made you a warrior yet.“ Arms snuck around his neck from behind and Arthur found his face covered by dark hair, Arianne hugged him tight for a moment.

It was unreal how much these two girls had grown. Seven years since he had last seen them, they had been children back then, now they were both young women.

\--

“Papa?” Jon asked him later after they had been shown to rooms and Torrhen had successfully talked Ashara into letting him go and see the pools and the other kids. Sarella had volunteered to take him so that Ashara could get some rest, though Arthur had no doubt that she would soon find her way back to Ellaria's side and gossip.

“Hm?” He sent right back to his son while he checked over the chests. Jon had chosen to stay with him, not because he was still scared, Arthur could see that Jon would probably need a day or two until his stomach had caught up with not being on a moving ship anymore. He had resolutely refused to eat something and until he hadn't done so, Arthur would not let him go and run wild through the pools anyway.

So now, he was curled up in the returned black cloak on Arthur's bed, Meraxes peeking out from under it. 

“Are we gonna stay here?”

The question took him off guard, surprising him so much that he froze in unpacking one of the chests to get an overview of things he would need. Arthur straightened up and turned around, going to crouch down in front of Jon. “At least for a while, yes. This is the safest place for us right now. There are no bad people in Dorne, especially not for little children, Jon, no one here will hurt you.”

“Can we go and see the pools tomorrow?” Jon asked around a half aborted yawn, energy low after such an exciting day that had started with him throwing up for almost an hour.  
“If you feel better, little wolf, then we will look at everything you want.” Arthur promised and stroked a hand through black hair before he grinned and pulled the cloak over Jon's head.

Jon's loud giggles were interrupted by a loud “meow”.

Arthur held still for a moment and then slowly turned around, still crouched on the ground, to look at the open chamber door. A set of golden eyes starred right back at him.

“Seven Hells, where did you come from, you pest!” He was laughing in the next moment, sinking down onto his knees and clapping a hand to his right knee, “Come here, you beast. Oberyn should have told me he brought you here, would have worn a cloak all day long just so you could have soemthing to tear up again.” 

Balerion came forward with slow prowling steps until he was bucking up into Arthur's hand, purring away. Jon and Meraxes both looked confused.

\--

The letter that Maester Darvin set into his hands with a bright smile was short but its content potent enough to nearly bring Benjen to his feet in relief, joy and happiness. He thanked the Maester and then turned to rush back to where the family had taken their supper in the quiet solitude of a private dining chamber.

No one had been in the mood for feasting in the hall in the last weeks.

“Andric!”

Already yelling before he rounded into the quiet room, Benjen caught himself against the chair he had vacated moments before when the servant had come to tell them of Maester Darvin's call, Benjen had only gone because Andric had been helping Edric with the meat.

“Water Gardens.” He gasped at alarmed blue eyes, every movement at the table came to a stand still, “They're at the Water Gardens, Tyene wrote.” Eyrin gave a breathy gasp, hand coming to rest on her stomach, next to her Andric lost all trouble in his eyes, entire body relaxing at once, Edric just looked confused. “They're all okay. All five of them.”

The relief sweeping over the room was visible almost.

Allyria reached out a hand and Benjen walked to her side, leaning down to kiss her and stroke a soothing hand over her stomach. She had started to really show yesterday and he was filled with so much wonder that it was difficult to let go of her in the morning sometimes.

Andric handed Edric to his mother and then got up to take the letter from Benjen, quickly reading over it before he looked to their guest. “Richard, can you do me a favor and run down to the harbor? Find my cousin and see if my uncle is still there? They need to know.” Richard nodded and set cutlery to the side to hurry out of the room.

“The letter says they arrived on Marten's ship.”

“I knew he wouldn't hesitate to help.” Eyrin answered his surprise, whipping Edric on her knee, having the boy giggle, hands patting his mother's swollen stomach as he usually did.  
“I need to make arrangements, we're leaving for the Water Gardens as soon as possible.” Andric decided and looked around the room, “All of us.” He looked positively giddy, his family was together in Dorne again after five years. “Ben, you need to write your brother immediately. I would not intent to have him worry anymore.”

Indeed, Ned would need to know. 

Allyria came up with him to their chambers, sitting down on the divan to lay up her feet while Benjen grabbed a scroll to write on. 

“You hear that little pup?” He heard her whisper to their unborn child, “Your family is all safe again, no need to worry anymore.” She stroked gentle hands over her middle, glancing over to him when he paused in his writing, “You should ask him to visit us here if it can be arranged. I am sure he would love to meet his nephews, and meet this little one as well.”

“Niece.” Benjen teased and added another line to the scroll, hand surprisingly steady for the giddy excitement in his veins. Arthur, Ashara, the children, all alright, all back home, back in Dorne.  
“Nephew.” Allyria countered easily, the bickering now well used to and Benjen stuck his tongue out at her, Allyria rolled her eyes.

She wanted a son, one who could befriend Edric and be his trusted companion while her nephew grew into the next Lord of Starfall. Benjen wanted a daughter, a beautiful little daughter who looked just like his wife, but most of all, next to all dreams, he just wanted a healthy child. 

\--

“Wait, wait...”

“Seriously? This is where you stop me?” Arthur wanted to know, eyes narrowed at Oberyn, “I talk about prophecies I don't understand myself, tell you about legends of old and vision like dreams, but it's the fucking Knight of the Laughing Tree who has you interrupt?” He shook his head when Oberyn shrugged his shoulders. “You're unbelievable.”

The last time they had been alone anywhere, just the two of them, Oberyn had threatened him with all kinds of violence and only narrowly avoided having to be arrested by Gerold. Now, they walked along the beach outside the Water Gardens, with Arthur answering questions and trying to explain what had gone on in Rhaegar's head.

“It's the first godsdamn thing that I can dig into with you. Everyone knows this whole gods business and prophecies are not something you believe in. Knights though, now there is something you will not tell me to find a book.” Oberyn pointed out the obvious and pushed Arthur into walking again, “Now, Lyanna Stark was the freaking mystery knight?”

“Defending the honor of one of her father's bannermen. Howland Reed, I believe his name was, had been beaten by those squires the day before. When we were out searching later, Rhaegar found her trying to hide the armor.” Arthur told him with a grin, he still remembered it so easily how he had stumbled onto them some minutes later. Lyanna on her knees in front of a fallen over tree, trying to stuff arm guards into a rabbit hole, Rhaegar up on his toes to hang a helmet into the branches of another tree.

“Prince falls in love with a mystery knight, now that is something you don't hear often.” Oberyn chuckled and kicked at the water of the wave crashing against his legs.  
“He was swept away with her from the first moment, I didn't realize that until later though.” Arthur mused, he had truly been blind to how much Rhaegar was really taken with the girl in the beginning, had thought it to be just curiosity for the girl's bravery. “It wasn't until I was dragged along for secret meetings in the night that it dawned on me.”

“And then came the jousting?”

“I didn't know. You have to believe me.” Arthur insistent and was glad to see only calm patience in Oberyn's eyes now, “I really didn't know that he was going to crown her. He was fired up, I give you that, wouldn't have taken me off my horse in any other way. I was frozen like everyone else when he wrote past Elia. And I was the first to yell at him, no one ever tells that part of the story.” He grumbled a bit over it, Rhaegar had barely been able to dismount from his horse back then before Arthur had already had him slammed against the next wall, Richard and Myles looking on a little stunned.

Dornish blood had taken over loyalty in the sight of his country's princess being slighted so.

“Lyanna herself was furious with him once the shock wore off. And Brandon Stark? I will never worry about someone insulting Rhaena if Torrhen comes after his father even halfway.” Oberyn laughed, “But crown of roses or not, didn't keep her from more secret meetings.”  
“What exactly happened on those secret meetings?” Oberyn wanted to know with a bit of a leer and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Nothing.” He had to disappoint, “They talked, about all kinds of things. It was sleep inducing boring, I swear to you.” Oberyn groaned and Arthur laughed, happy that they could talk about this so easily.   
“Okay, but I know what happened after Harrenhall, Elia wrote me about letters exchanged, about Rhaegar making a decision. We could still communicate more freely then. Tell me what happened after you left King's Landing with him.” Oberyn asked of him and Arthur nodded.

“It was Rhaegar, Oswell, Richard, Myles and me. Oswell rode to Harrenhall, Rhaegar had asked the Septon he had brought into his plans to travel there and wait for a white cloak. The rest of us rode for Riverrun, the Starks had been there for Brandon Stark's wedding to Catelyn Tully. Myles got tasked with the wonderful notion of fetching her from the agreed meeting place.”

Myles had been chosen solely for the reason that he had been sweet and kind, and not as mouthy as Richard.

“And then you wrote for Harrenhall?”

“As if the hounds were chasing us. They were wed basically the day we arrived, if it hadn't been for Lord Whent's daughter, Lyanna would have probably stood before the Septon in her riding breeches.” Which wouldn't have made her any less beautiful or happy on that day. “She loved him, I know that she did. And he loved her, too.”

“More or less than he loved you?” 

Arthur stopped, breath catching in his chest and he saw how Oberyn flinched, stopping as well and turning around to look at him. “I'm sorry, that was a terrible question.”  
“I never asked him. I didn't think it was necessary to know.” Arthur choked out and crossed his arms over his chest, looking out over the bay. “It didn't matter to me. I always knew that he wouldn't just stop loving me just because she was there as well now.”

“When you did you start loving her?”

“When it was too late.” Arthur replied quietly, smiling when Oberyn came closer to squeeze his shoulder, “Rhaegar was dead and I stood there holding his only remaining child in my arms while Lyanna lay dying. That was my moment, couldn't have chosen it any more typical Arthur. Only wanting things when it was no longer possible.”

“You're not even eight and twenty, you still have a long life ahead of you. Enough time to find love again, my friend.” Oberyn told him but Arthur didn't even start arguing with him about it, it wasn't worth it.  
“Jon is the priority. I owe it to both of them to make sure he is happy and safe.” He said instead and Oberyn chuckled, “I don't have to tell you this but holding him? It changed everything, and he wasn't even my own. I was the first to hold him, Lyanna was too weak, so I sat there just holding him, and I swore to me nothing will happen to him, nothing will ever happen to him. I looked at him and I could forget for just a bit that Rhaegar was dead, that Lyanna lay there fighting for her life, that my entire life's purpose had been ripped away from me.”

“Children do that to you.” Oberyn mentioned as someone who put family but most of all his daughters over everything. “Come on, let's head back before they start wondering if I ditched you behind some sand dune after all. Tell me more about the time you spent at that tower. Why that place anyway? That tower has been half a ruin before Andric got a little bit too eager with the fire.”

Arthur tried to fight desperately against the blush that crept over his face but he failed, Oberyn of course saw it immediately and began laughing.

“When Rhaegar came along for me swearing the oaths as the Sword of the Morning, we rode a lot. It was the first time he had been to Dorne. We came upon the tower when we were seeking shelter from a sandstorm.” Oberyn was smirking as Arthur talked and he quickly lunged for some other part of the whole story to keep the other man from asking more uncomfortable question. Arthur had never really known how Oberyn had found out about them, Elia had surely always denied having said a word to her brother.

When they returned into the gardens, feet moving them to the pools by instinct alone, they found Ashara and Ellaria deep in conversation under the protection of a sun sail, Rhaena and Elia playing at their feet. Torrhen and Jon were barely visible among the other children, only Torrhen's loud voice gave indication to his presence.

“Have you tried asking Ashara after Rhaena's father yet?” Arthur wanted to know as they slowly walked over to the women, Oberyn was truly his last hope, if even he didn't get it out of his sister, they would just have to wait for the day that Rhaena herself was gonna ask.  
“I did.” Oberyn answered him, a hand coming up to rub at his arm being already explanation enough to what Ashara had given him in reply, “She didn't give me a name.”

Ashara had a mean left hook. 

\--

Arthur found Jon pressing back against his legs when the riders entered the courtyard, small hand grabbing ahold of his pant leg. It wasn't fear he read in his little boy's composure though, it was finally replaced with that careful burning curiosity. Torrhen was bouncing on his feet on his right, Rhaena had gotten distracted with Arianne's dress, way more interested in pulling on the tassels than watching the Daynes' entrance.

Arthur though felt like something was settling in his chest when he saw the banners, when he saw the sigil on the silver armor of the knights, the fallen star on their lavender cloaks.

„Home.“ Ashara whispered to him as she hooked her arm around his, „We got our family back, brother.“ He reached out to squeeze her hand, round violet eyes looked up at them where Jon had craned his head back. „You remember Uncle Ben and Aunt Ally, Jon?“  
„Yes.“ He answered quickly and grinned, doubt leaving his eyes fully while he looked back at the envoy coming closer through the gates, searching for familiar faces.

Arthur still couldn't believe that Andric had packed up the whole family and left the castle in Carral's hands, hopefully they wouldn't regret that anytime soon. Ashara would get to meet little Edric, another nephew.

And then Andric rode into the courtyard, Benjen at his side, and it felt so good to see his brother again, brothers really. Arthur hadn't had any time for visits since Benjen had been made a knight and it felt so good to see his older brother happy and healthy, at his side Ashara was trembling with suppressed joy, she hadn't seen her brother in five years.

He was not surprised then when Ashara rushed forward to throw herself into Andric's arms the moment he had dismounted and handed the reigns of his horse to a squire. Brother and sister embraced and Arthur smiled when two hands pulled on his sleeves.

„Who is that, Papa?“ Jon came before Torrhen for once and Arthur swept a strand of black hair out of his face.  
„That is your uncle Andric, boys. He is my older brother, the Lord of Starfall.“ He answered the question and both sets of violet eyes swept back to Andric hugging Ashara close, Benjen talking to some men behind them. Torrhen was blinking, brows furrowing a little, Arthur wondered if there could be some distant blurry memory maybe. Jon had his head cocked to the side and then he was beaming with all his face.

„Uncle Benjen!“ He cried out, louder than most of these people had certainly ever heard him and he wove around an approaching Oberyn on quick feet, throwing himself at the Stark who bent down to catch him. Torrhen followed him, smirking when Benjen gasped at him all playfully before ruffling through his hair. 

Arthur had made to walk over to them as well but then got distracted by the wheelhouse coming into the courtyard with its protecting riders as the last part of the Daynes' envoy. It wasn't the wheelhouse though that had him freeze on the spot, limbs locking up as he stared at the man with the brunet hair and blue eyes, wearing a yellow cloak that flapped slightly in the wind when he dismounted from his horse.

There wasn't a single thought in his head while he stared at a dead man.

„Andric needs to develop some feeling on how to announce people aren't dead.“ Oberyn spoke up as he came to stand next to him and Arthur snorted loudly, breaking out of whatever spell had fallen over him. A small distance away Richard Lonmouth handed the reigns over to a stableboy and then looked over, the moment their eyes caught he smirked and Arthur found himself laughing.

Laughing and shaking his head.

„You son of bitch!“ He called out quietly when Richard had walked close enough to be pulled into a rough embrace.  
„Don't insult my mother, Dayne.“ Richard laughed, pounding a hand against Arthur's back before pulling back, „My lady mother was a fine woman.“ Richard told him with a bright grin and Arthur had to shake his head, placing both hands on Richard's shoulders.

„Aye, a fine woman. Last time I saw her, she asked me if she could trade you in for me.“ He teased and Richard rolled his eyes, pulling back from him to greet Oberyn  
„Every freaking mother in the entire fucking Seven Kingdoms wanted that.“ Richard made obvious and Arthur laughed, unable to still believe what he was seeing.

„Gods, it's good to see you. We need to talk.” He ordered almost but then saw how the wheelhouse door got opened, “Later, though I got some family I need to see.” Richard nodded and got into conversation with Oberyn so Arthur could step over to the wheelhouse. The Dayne Knight whose name he couldn't recall stepped quickly to the side so Arthur could offer his own hand to his good-sister as she climbed down, stomach swollen with her second child.

“You look beautiful as always, my Lady.”

“Oh, Arthur!” Eyrin laughed in greeting and slapped a hand lightly against his arm but then hugged him tight, “Oh, we were so worried about you. Everyone is really okay?”  
“Perfectly fine.” Arthur replied as he let go of her, turning to face the brightly glowing face of his youngest sister, “Look at you, Ally, could you be any more beautiful.” Allyria laughed in joy and happiness and let him pick her up and set down on the ground before embracing him tight and holding on far longer than their good-sister had.

And only when she let him did Arthur pull back to look at her, a woman truly grown now, wedded to a man he knighted himself, showing just barely that she was with child. His little sister had truly become a true Lady. “Ben is taking good care of you, I hope.”  
“Only the best.” Allyria grinned and stuck her tongue out at someone who was approaching from behind, Arthur knew it to be Benjen before he had even turned around.

His good-brother had a nephew on each hip, one smiling happier than the other, immediately fussed over by Eyrin and Allyria. Which gave Arthur a good opportunity to turn back to the still open door of the wheelhouse where a small head was peeking out, curiously but hesitant. Arthur smiled and held out a hand, dark blue eyes looked at him, unsure. “You have no idea who I am anymore, but that's not surprising, you were still very small. You're Edric, hm?” A head full of pale golden locks nodded, “And I'm your Uncle Arthur.”

“Uncle?” Little Edric Dayne echoed and then he was beaming, happily letting Arthur pick him up, thin arms got wrapped around his neck. “Papa told me lots stories.”  
“I don't doubt that for a second, little lord.” Arthur chuckled, catching Benjen's eyes from between Allyria and Eyrin.

And then Andric and Ashara came over as well with Rhaena being carried in her oldest uncle's arms, poking at the fallen star on Andric's doublet.

Family.

Home.

“Oh look at you.” Eyrin chuckled as she moved to stand next to her husband, smiling at little Rhaena, “Could you look any more smug over having them all together again in one place.” Judging by the glint in Andric's eyes, he couldn't have. Allyria and Ashara were giggling, arms tight around each other, quickly talking about the younger sister's unborn babe. Benjen was preoccupied trying to listen to Torrhen and Jon who were talking at the same time, over and against each other, for once showing that they could indeed both have a temper.

Andric handed his niece over to his wife after a moment and Eyrin joined her good-sisters, voices swimming together in Arthur's ears as his older brother came to hug him for a short moment, mindful of his son, before they turned to look at Benjen and the boys.

“Gods, they've grown.” Andric commented and the boys shut up at once, two angelic faces turning to look at the Lord of Starfall. Torrhen surprised Arthur when he stretched out a hand towards Andric, letting his uncle take him and giving full ownership of Benjen over to Jon for the moment.

This was so good.

\--

“I feel like a fool.”

Arthur snorted upon Richard's words as the younger man sank into a chair next to him, around them the small feast that Oberyn had thrown to welcome the Daynes to the Water Gardens was in full swing. Children outnumbered the adults greatly but no one cared. Everyone was too happy to be united again, talking and laughing together. 

“I feel like I should have know there was more to it than just him stealing away to Dorne to have some undisturbed time with his second wife.” Richard continued and Arthur laughed, “He looks so much like her.”  
“He's quieter than her.” Arthur joined in, following Richard's sight down to where Jon was following Tyene step for step through the open brightly lit hall. Keeping to Torrhen was entirely forgotten, way too interested in new faces who brought new stories along or in following after Tyene.

Was five too young to have a first crush?

“But he loves to hear stories, that he certainly has in common with her. Don't think you'll be spared, you're the first non-Dornish, non-Northerner Westerosi he has met, prepare to be bombarded with questions.” Arthur gave in warning and it was Richard's turn to laugh. “Add to that this 'dare and disappoint' look from Rhaegar's eyes.”

“Oi, yeah, I remember that one all too well still.”

They were silent again for a moment, both of them thinking back to times that felt longer back than they really were. 

“We can talk another day about him.” Arthur decided after the moment dragged on too long, “I want to enjoy being back home with family and friends tonight. Tell me more about the Kingswood, they didn't hear much about that down here. And I want to know how Barristan and Jaime got wrapped up in that.” Richard grinned and launched into the story.

It was later, most of the children already off to bed that Arthur found himself standing on one of the balconies, watching out over the beach and the calm sea. The steps that approached him from behind revealed Andric after another moment, wine cup still in his hand as he joined Arthur on his right side.

“When the war ends...will you leave again?” Andric asked, right down to it, Arthur glanced over to him, he knew how difficult it must have been to watch him leave every single time, how hard the first goodbye had been. Andric had only ever wanted to protect them after their father's too timely death, had wanted to be big brother and sheltering Lord at the same time.

“My mind says it would be smarter.” Arthur pointed out, “Maybe not back to Volantis, go to Lys, hide out there. See if Pentos is safe.” They could contact Jon and see what he had achieved.  
“And you prefer making choices based on what your mind is saying you.” Andric concluded but Arthur knew he was surprising him when he shook his head.

“Not this time.” He disagreed, turning around so he could lean back against the balcony railing and watch the people still talking and having fun with each other in the hall. His brother turned so he could look at him. “I followed what my head was telling me all my life. But now? I asked myself so many times what could have been different if I had just made a different choice, listened to my gut instead of my head.”

“And what is your heart telling you?”

Arthur smiled and looked at his older brother, “That I want I come home. Not just to wait out a war before disappearing again. Dorne is my home and I've been forced to leave too many times. I want to come home for good.” Andric smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.  
“We'll think of something, figure it out. Jon will be safe.” Andric promised him, “At the rate Robert Baratheon is facing trouble on all sides right now, he won't even notice if rumors reach King's Landing from Dorne. It's our advantage that our sister is so well know for her pretty eyes, makes it easy to remind people that the Targaryens are not the only ones with purple eyes.”

And then said sister appeared to demand a dance partner.  
\--

Jon was happy again, really really happy.

The Water Gardens were great, there were so many pools and so many children. They had scared him at first and he hadn't wanted to go without his Papa but now he knew they were all nice and he didn't need his Papa around anymore, not so much. He had Uncle Benjen back, he had met Uncle Andric and his Papa's friend Richard. 

He had more aunts who liked to cuddle him and brush his hair, Auntie Ash, Aunt Ally and Aunt Eyrin. He had met Auntie's friend Prince Oberyn and his brother Prince Dorne who was ruling over Dorne, they had so many children. Prince Oberyn had only daughters, some of them were already so big. Prince Doran had one daughter, Princess Arianne, and two sons, but Jon had been explained that Prince Quentyn was somewhere else and that Prince Trystane was still a baby.

But what Jon found the best was getting another cousin.

Uncle Andric and Aunt Eyrin had a son. 

Cousin Edric.

But everyone called him Ned.

Ned was quiet, like Jon. Not so loud like Torrhen. Torrhen was making so many friends and he was always running after Obara and Nym now, begging them to show him tricks. Edric liked to play with Jon, and Meraxes liked him, too. She let him pet him, she didn't let Torrhen close anymore, he had pulled her tail.

Edric liked his books and he asked Jon to tell him about dragons and wolves and Jon liked to make up stories now because someone listened. Even Tyene liked to listen to his stories and Tyene was big already.

And Jon got to learn something very new and fun as well.

His Papa and Uncle Benjen had brought him to the stables after they had broken their fast, and it was really early still, it was just the three of them.

And now, Jon found himself staring at a pair of brown eyes. 

“You like it?” Uncle Benjen asked him and Jon grinned, clapping his hands together in excitement because he knew what was gonna happen and he really really liked it. “Ah, see, I knew it was a good decision.” Jon nodded in agreement and looked over to his Papa who was smiling, too, holding the reigns of the brown pony.

They didn't have any horses in Volantis, not even Papa had had one, so not even Torrhen had learned how to ride yet, but Torrhen only wanted a stupid elephant anyway.

“You wanna go up?” His Papa wanted to know and Jon didn't even hesitate before nodding again, stretching up arms towards Uncle Benjen eagerly. Uncle picked him up and swung him into the saddle, Jon sat up and grinned at his Papa and his Uncle, both of them were smiling back at him.  
“Now, look at you, little wolf.” His Papa began, handing him the reigns and showing him how to hold them, “Sitting all proper on his first try, now why am I not surprised.”

Jon beamed under the praise.

“It's in his blood.” He heard Uncle Benjen say and his Papa had that weird little smile again as he reached out to ruffle Jon's hair.   
“Yeah, it is, it is indeed.” His Papa replied and Jon looked back down at the pony beneath him, it was all calm but he couldn't wait to really get going. 

He had seen horses and riders race along the beach. He wanted to do that now.

“Let him go some rounds. It's how we learned to ride.” Uncle Benjen told Jon's Papa who glanced between Uncle Benjen and the pony a bit, “Arthur, nothing will happen, we're right here. He's been born to sit a horse, look at him. Jon, you be careful and not go for any racing, alright?”

“Careful.” Jon echoed and nodded, his Papa pulled lightly on the reigns of the horse and walked along Jon for a few paces, only a few, then he stopped and let them go on alone. 

And it was good, so good.

Jon was riding a pony. On his own.

When the pony had reached the end of the stable courtyard, Jon pulled a little on the reigns to make it go left so they could turn around again. This was so great. Could only be better if they went faster. Only how could he make the pony go faster?

First of all he would need to hold on tighter so he wouldn't fall down, he had promised to be careful. 

He pulled the reigns closer and pushed his legs tighter against the pony's side and then it already went faster on its own, maybe it had understood Jon. He bopped up and down until he found that there was a rhythm to it, and it felt way better when he moved with it, like that stupid dancing Auntie Ash had tried with them. 

He felt the wind on his face but it wasn't so bad like it had been on the stupid ship, this was nice, this was really nice.

This was great.

This was really fun.

Jon heard loud laughter and saw his Uncle Benjen with his head thrown back as he came back towards them, way quicker than he had started with. Jon's Papa was just smiling.

“Can I go again?” He asked as he pulled the pony to a stop in front of his Papa who nodded quickly, Jon cheered and turned the pony again. And before he was too far gone again, his ears still caught what his Uncle Benjen said to his Papa.

“Lyanna would be so proud.”

Who was Lyanna?

The question got put away for another time, now Jon wanted to ride and see how fast he could go before his Papa stopped him.


	5. Home - Epilogue - A Fallen Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the plot thickens and explodes XD  
> Also: You will find a canon book character here that I made older, and by more than just a little bit. That has not to do with any plot or so, it is a simple selfish choice because I liked the character in the books and I like his name XD.  
> Furthermore I will soonish update the Characters Overview to include some more characters with ages.

Arthur made only one trip into Sunspear in the first few weeks of being back in Dorne, riding to the ruling seat of House Martell with Oberyn and Andric who were both wanted for a council sitting. He left them to walk into the palace on their own though, instead he kept the hood still pulled over his head and walked along the side roads until the reached the quiet building maybe a few dozen feet from the Sept of the Seven. 

He took a deep shuddering breath when he entered the unguarded place, it was a building of mourning and memory, no one would dare fight here. Arthur pulled off the hood in a sign of manners when he descended down the stairs into the crypt. He paid his respects to Princess Nymeria as you were ought to do as a man of Dornish blood, and a warrior no less, paid his respects as well to Princess Loreza, the ruling Princess of Dorne that Arthur had grown up knowing.

And then knelt down in front of the slab of stone for which he had come.

'Unbowed, unbent, unbroken'

Those had been the last words Prince Lewyn Nymeros Martell had ever spoken to him, on the morning when Arthur had packed his things to ride North with Rhaegar. We are Dornish, he had meant, you and I, we both know that not even a Kingsguard oath stops us from being Dornish. Remind yourself to keep your head in this, Lewyn had wanted to tell him, we serve the crown but we do not bent under it.

And if what Arthur had heard about Lewyn's last moments was true then he had not even bent in death, not to the crown, not to the enemy. 

When he looked up again, his eyes fell upon the sword and the spear resting on the stone slap, Lewyn had been deadly with both. So many times they had sparred with each other, Arthur could count it at the markings on the spear where Dawn had cut it because Lewyn had insisted that she would get some training as well. When no one else had wanted to go up against Arthur with her in his hands, unless it was two against one. 

“Do you remember what you said to Rhaegar after I got sworn into the Kingsguard? Aerys had thrown a feast, you had pulled Rhaegar to the side. I hadn't been meant to overhear but Os had been terrible at keeping me distracted.” Arthur remembered with a sad little smile, “You told Rhaegar you were afraid of wars to come, afraid that my devotion would get me killed long before my time. And now? Ten years later, and it is terrible to say that you were wrong. My devotion kept me alive, Lewyn, and you are all gone. Aerys' Great Seven. What became of us? Slain in battle, made a turncloak, a Kingslayer, and a man who is only alive because a woman begged her brother for it.”

“He wouldn't see you like that and you know it.”

Arthur startled slightly but didn't move out of his kneeling position, just looked to his right to catch sight of the man setting a yellow flower into the hand of the statue that had been built on top of the stone that held the bones of Princess Loreza. Elion Gargalen, former Prince Consort of Dorne, looked a him with light brown eyes, “Hello, Arthur.” Elion greeted him and in the following silence he began to smile, a hand caressing the statue of his deceased wife before he stepped closer to lay a hand on the edge of Lewyn's grave as well for a moment. “Can I have a word?”

“Of course.”

\--

It was an early afternoon when the whole game of thrones that Arthur so despised changed so abruptly that even he could for just that moment find utter delight in it. Allyria, Eyrin and Ellaria had taken guards and the girls down to the harbor market, apparently deciding that their husbands, or lovers or brothers or fathers for that matter, were absolutely not appreciated to accompany them. Elion had ridden out with Lucerys to get the quiet time to talk and supposedly hash out plans that Arthur wouldn't like.

It left him with Oberyn and Andric in charge of supervising the children in the pools. Torrhen had taken to them in a storm of emotions, had gone from tentatively making new friends into conquering the whole place within about an hour. Nothing stood in the path of that rougish grin.

Jon had needed a few more days until he had even agreed to step close enough to the pools to poke a foot in, that ship voyage had messed up everything concerning water that wasn't a warm tub for baths. Once that had been worked over, he was as usually attached to Torrhen's side. He had become fast friends with Edric though, the younger boy quieter in nature as well.

“One would think Torrhen was the one descending from Kings.” Oberyn noticed with an amused snort, leaning back on one of the lounge chairs that dominated the grass fields around the pools, tall old palm trees spending shadows. “My, that boy has a charisma.”  
“Did you expect anything else concerning those parents? I would fear for my daughters already, Oberyn.” Arthur chuckled and Oberyn snorted, “Ey, he got Obara wrapped around his fingers, haven't heard about that happen until now. Torrhen would make a terrible king though, he'll conquer kingdoms but he would rule them into ruins just as fast. Or just get bored and move on.”

“He'll be a Knight then. Jon's Sworn Sword, don't tell me you can't see it.” Oberyn teased and though Arthur sent him a toxic look for going in that direction with the topic, he knew Oberyn had a point. In the pool, Andric roared when he dropped Edric and Jon into the water, both boys resurfacing with loud laughs, Starfall's blond heir swimming back to his father to demand another round while Jon approached Torrhen, leaning close to whisper something to his cousin. 

Moments later they shared grins and Arthur knew his brother was in for it. He closed his eyes then, bathed in the peace that always laid over the Water Gardens it seemed, sun on his shin and the smell of oranges in the air. 

He only looked up again when Benjen came running around the corner from the palace, slowing his steps just enough that he wouldn't stumble into the pool before he could take the corner. In the pool Andric excused himself from the boys and hurried out, catching up to where Arthur and Oberyn were sitting up on the lounge chairs.

“A rider came from Sunspear, Doran got a raven from King's Landing.” Benjen panted and pressed a hand on his chest for a moment before he had caught his breath enough again, he was grinning and smirking in vindictive glee. All three older men raised an eyebrow, not knowing about the explosion the young knight's words would cause soon enough. Benjen pulled out a scroll and handed it to Andric.

Arthur looked at his brother and then blinked when Andric gaped upon letting his eyes fly over the few lines.

“What happened?” Oberyn asked, glancing from Benjen's barely contained bouncing to Andric's suddenly growing predatory smirk. “Hey, news for those in the blank as well?” Arthur kicked out a foot towards his brother's knee, so Andric cleared his throat, sharing a grin with Benjen before he began to read.

“King Robert, First of his Name, hereby declares his marriage to Lady Cersei Lannister nullified upon the acts of infidelity and tried high treason.”

Oberyn started clapping and Arthur was laughing but Benjen waved their reactions down, “Wait for it, wait for it!” He chuckled, elbowing Andric to go on, “Tell them the best part.”

“Lady Cersei has been sent to the Silent Sisters. And Lord Tywin to the dungeons.”

Oberyn started laughing so loudly that most of the children in the pool stopped playing, Arthur felt a sense of satisfaction that was so deep that it nearly burned itself into his blood.

The lions had stopped roaring.

\--

“Are you sure about this, lad?”

Arthur groaned and fought against the urge to show the older man what he had all learned under his brother's tutelage, and why especially he hadn't been a lad in a long time. As it was, he used an annoyed glare to portray his opinion on the uttered question, hoping it was to be enough. Lord Lucerys Velaryon huffed in the reaction Arthur had also expected, his own insisting look not lessening in any capacity, so it was Arthur who was forced to speak up after all.

“Richard trusts him and I trust Richard.” He clarified, crossing arms over his chest and shifting his weight to his right leg. He threw a look over his shoulder to where Jon was still perched on a rock on the other end of the docks, having refused to even step a foot further towards the pier, no matter how much Arthur had sworn him he would not need to go onto a ship. Lucerys followed his eyes and then sighed, a weary one that he had mastered to full effect since Jaecaerys had packed his things and left Driftmark for Essos, never to be heard of again, leaving his father without a spare heir.

And an older one without any interest in ships.

“You know that I know what's not being said here, right?” Lucerys drew him out of his thoughts and Arthur looked back to him, “I appreciate the concern for Laeno's and mine safety, and I will not deny that our family is still being watched closely by the crown, but the heap of it has long since been pushed into the hands of Lord Stannis. And I do not fear anything from the man, we have come to an understanding.”

“As far as Andric is concerned that understanding is only grounded on him not having any interest in the matters laid out for him. Gossip has it that Aurane is doing the real duty and Stannis is the mummery master of ships.” Arthur supplied with a content grin when Lucerys failed in keeping a smile from showing. Stannis Baratheon and his siege of Dragonstone might have kept the Velaryon fleet from aiding the Targaryen loyalists in the rebellion but the man had neither an idea on how to follow his duties as master-of-ships, nor on how to deal with the rather peculiar inhabitants of Dragonstone.

Arthur knew it was all the gods' revenge.

True might over the Royal fleet had never left the hands of the Velaryon family, even if no one saw it now, especially not when it was Lucerys' bastard son who kept his hands on the wheel. 

“Aurane is doing his duty with great delight, even if King's Landing may at times bring hardships to it.” Lucerys offered up in response to it and Arthur snorted, right hand still clutching the rather lengthy letter he had written three days ago, on the evening of the same day that news of the fallen lion Queen had reached them. He supposed that even as a Captain in service to Stannis Baratheon, having earned the man's trust, it wasn't exactly easy to walk around the Red Keep looking like a green-eyed twin of Rhaegar Targaryen. “And you know as well as I do that if I were to send word to him, he'll be kneeling in front of you swearing fealty within the fortnight.”

Arthur grimaced, fully aware that Lucerys was only speaking the truth, Aurane's interest had certainly never lacked in intensity or persistence. He had also always seen the irony that the only other person who had ever truly pursued him with that kind of intent had looked like a skinnier Rhaegar with eyes the color of his House's sigil.

“I'm a disgraced Knight, Uncle. Aurane better keep his fealty where it rests for now...And himself as well.” Arthur added as an afterthought, he really didn't need that right now, Lucerys chuckled.  
“Back on topic though, I know you, lad, and the realm may be set to think that even the most honorable of them White Knights can fall from grace and father a child on a woman who entranced him, but I know you better than those fools.” Lucerys pointed out easily and it was Arthur's turn to sigh, “You also forget that out of all these people here, it is me who has known Rhaegar from the time he was still a babe in the cradle. And not even my aged eyes will deceive me the sight of Rhaegar's son, as much as he might look like his lady mother.”

Upon Arthur's surely uncomfortable look, Lucerys clapped a hand to his shoulder and squeezed, “Be at ease, Arthur, there aren't any people left at court who would see it like I do. The war has slain a many.” And his uncle's words had Arthur breath out deeply again, no lie or idea had been formed yet on what or in what length they would go about explaining Jon's existence to those outside the trusted circle. 

News from across the sea was spare, meaning that so far it looked like their war could drag on for years again, so upon some point they would have to come with something to explain Arthur's reappearance from the death with a child at his side. Ashara was already unwilling to leave Dorne again, and Arthur truthfully felt so as well.

Hence the letter.

“I shall hand over the letter by my own hands. If by any reason, my duties shall keep me from it, I will entrust only Aurane with the task.” Lucerys promised and flicked Arthur's ear for the suffering face he pulled upon Aurane being brought up again. “I will tell Laeno of your survival and tale, and I will do so with Aurane. They are family, Arthur, and friends, they deserve to know the truth.”  
“I'm not fighting you on Laeno, the stars only know how often I had thought of writing to him or asking Andric to do so, but Aurane?” Arthur complained but handed over the letter he had written on the eve of the news of a fallen lion queen having reached them.

It was a lengthy one, the most cryptic one he had surely ever written.

“Stop it now. Aurane has mourned Rhaegar and you greatly, and when news came that Dorne is looking for Ashara, he personally pushed Lord Stannis to lend some ships and men to join the search.” Lucerys' voice grew a little more heated and Arthur cocked an eyebrow but he was delayed in asking any questions over it because the First Mate called for his Lord to board the ship. Arthur exchanged some short goodbyes with his uncle still and then waited until Lucerys was on deck and the plank was raised before he called out one more plea to him.

“And Uncle?” Lucerys looked down to him, “I swear by the gods and the stars and your seawinds, keep Aurane away from me!” As much good as that pleading would be, Arthur thought to himself as he watched the ship take to the sea, sails catching the wind easily. His father had always cared deeply for the bonds of family, had put the same values into the heads of his children.

Lord Beric had only been blessed with a younger brother whom Arthur had never met for he had died before he had been born, along with his wife on an excursion to Braavos. Carral was the only child of that marriage and hence also the only relative on the Dayne side of Arthur's blood, which in itself was more than enough because the stars alone knew Carral was enough for five. 

And his mother's side of the family easily made up for all potential lack of excitement. Eleana's older brother had chosen the Faith and had thus not left any issue to call cousins, at least not any Arthur was aware of. His grandfather, scrully man that he had been had according to the stories decided when it was time to go and had walked naked over Driftmark until he reached the sea to return to their forefathers. It still brought a smile to his face now where he was walking back to Jon who had stood up and was balancing on the rock.

In lack of a maternal uncle, or any uncle really, Lucerys and Laeno had both decided that role desperately needed to be filled in the family of their cherished cousin. And with Lucerys, Arthur and his siblings had gotten cousins – of the second degree but who cared, his mother never had – much to Ashara's and Allyria's complaints, it had only been cousins of the male kind.

Lucerys's trueborn sons, Corlyn and Jaecaerys, both of an age with Andric, more different to each other than even Andric and Arthur could claim to be. One born half fish like their father claimed, the other without any sealegs, and unfortunately the wrong way around. Jaecaerys was gone now, one too many argument with the older brother had led him to pack his belongings and make off to Essos, never to be heard of again. Corlyn was keeping his hand in controlling Driftmark while his father travelled the coast line, wedded with a wife expecting a third child.

And then there was Aurane.

Then there was Aurane indeed.

Arthur mused as he grinned at violet eyes and caught the boy jumping towards him, swinging him up onto his shoulders. “You okay with going over the market still? Papa wants some blueberries.”  
“You always want blueberries.” Jon supplied with a giggle and dropped his chin on top of Arthur's head, mood very pleasant it seemed, “But yes, we can go. Can I have some cheese?”  
“You don't want anything else anymore either, huh? You're gonna turn into cheese, little wolf.” Arthur teased and pulled on a foot, bare because like his cousins, too, Jon had quickly caught onto those habits of children in the Water Gardens, “And you need a bath tonight, young man, you smell like a fish and your feet are black.”

Jon groaned but didn't complain, Arthur smirked in victory and walked over to the market booths and stands.

Aurane Waters. 

If the man had been born a woman, Arthur would have long since found himself under the rumors of having a paramour himself as often as his distant cousin had turned up in the middle of the night outside Arthur's chamber. In King's Landing and on Dragonstone, both. Rhaegar had been amused whenever Arthur had ranted about it, right until that moment where the Prince had realized that the younger boy was not in it for only friendship.

Jealousy had always turned Rhaegar into a prissy dragon.

Arthur had only ever been annoyed by it all, Aurane was nice and a charming fellow to be around but really not in that way.

“Cheese! Papa, look, Uncle Andric wants cheese, too!”

And a sharp tug on his right ear later, Arthur's mind was cleared of annoying family members from far away and filled with the jammering of his present family. His brother snorted where he was waiting in front of the cheese merchant, Jon wriggled until Arthur let him down, he knew the merchant by now and Arthur felt sorry for the thousand questions that were sure to fall from pale lips soon again.

“I was merely here because I knew a walk over the market would quickly end up with you two right here.” Andric explained his appearance and nodded for Arthur to take a few steps away from Jon who was much too busy learning way too much about cheese to bother with it. “Uncle is off?” Andric began with a question and continued after Arthur's nod. “We got another letter from King's Landing, it seems the King's Hand would like everyone to know how the lions have fallen.”

Arthur didn't say anything but simply raised an eyebrow, kind of eager to know the reason, he had despised Cersei Lannister even when she had only been a girl of two and ten. Her looks had never said anything else but her blaming him for her losing her brother to the Kingsguard, even if Arthur certainly had nothing to do with that decision.

Nor had he ever liked her way too obvious infatuation to be the woman at Rhaegar's side which had then turned into becoming the Queen of Rhaegar's murderer. He was enjoying her fall a little too much in the moment.

“As it seems the now former Queen has cheated on her lord husband with a member of the Kingsguard and at least two of King Robert's squires.”

The berry Arthur had popped into his mouth just as his brother had started speaking again went completely down the wrong way. He coughed and choked until Andric slammed a hand against his back, in reaction to which Arthur whirled around and gaped at him, and Andric wasn't even nearly done.

“Furthermore it seems that at least the dead infant prince and some of the other miscarried babes have not been of the King's seed. Lady Cersei is with child as of right now, a child that cannot be the King's for he has in his own words not lain with his wife in a long time.” Andric continued and violet eyes went even rounder, Arthur cursed so horribly that he had to glance over to Jon to make sure the boy hadn't heard a single word.

And then his mind went blank.

He wouldn't....the twins had always been incredibly close...Arthur had just always assumed it to be the connection twins were said to have...

“The Kingsguard is not Jamie, if you're wondering.” Andric stopped his whirring thoughts and Arthur blew out a breath, “It's that Trant boy, but supposedly it's also the Lannister cousins squiring for the king, or at least according to Jon Arryn.”  
“Gods be good. And Lord Tywin?” To that Andric could only shrug, no word on those accusations so far it seemed, “Jamie?”

“Offered to be the Crown's champion in the trial of combat Lord Tywin is demanding.” Andric smiled and crouched down when Jon returned to them, arms loaded with cheese and purse surely some coins lighter, happily listening to Jon's newfound knowlegde about cheese.  
“You didn't learn that from Jon Arryn's letter...” Arthur doubted out loud and Andric chuckled, ruffling Jon's curls before looking up to Arthur.

“No, I learned that from a letter Talion brought to Sunspear. From Aurane.”

Arthur groaned and threw his head back to curse at the clouds while Andric laughed and told Jon to come along so they could find a basket to take back all that cheese and Arthur's berries.

\--

In the throne hall in the Red Keep in King's Landing a young man stood at the back of the empty hall, his left hand throwing an apple slightly up and down, always catching it with a sure grip again. Pale green eyes were resting on the Iron Throne in the distance, silver-blond hair was falling in soft waves around his face and down onto his shoulders.

His hair and his pale skin built a sharp contrast to the all black clothes he had dug out of his chests for this occasion. Black pants, black shirt, black doublet, even the swordbelt he had had made in dyed black leather. He had been tempted for a while to let the seamstresses back home add some red to his doublet, maybe even go so far as to let them sew the seahorse of his father's house in red onto the doublet's front.

After all, bastards could play around with their sigils a bit, he wouldn't be the first one to change colors and just keep the sigil's form. His uncle and his brother had stopped him and let him change his mind before he had once more made off for Dragonstone before sailing to King's Landing along with Stannis.

He was fully aware of just what one would think when they spotted him in this dark corner of the throne room, he didn't need any red thread on his chest for it. 

Aurane Waters knew how he looked, where it had always been fun to drive Arthur crazy with it, did he now hold a way more vengeful tactic in mind. 

He was waiting for the small council session to be over, officially because a raven had arrived from Dragonstone and he carried a letter for his liege lord, but unofficially he wanted to give some people a slight scare. The King especially, Aurane loved to see his face turn red, the man was affronted by Aurane's sheer presence alone and Aurane knew King Robert had often already tried to talk his brother into finding more suitable help.

Lord Stannis though valued Aurane's knowledge and skill higher than wanting to remain in his brother's good graces, which was why Aurane was here in King's Landing and not cast back to Driftmark to fight with Corlyn. Or ordered to join the search for Ashara and the children, as much as he longed to know that part of his family to be found and safe, he knew that he was playing his part in King's Landing here for a reason.

The Usurper had turned his family into second-class lordlings, puppets in the hands of Stannis Baratheon who had neither any right to sit on Dragonstone's throne nor did he want it. The latter was it why the Velaryons hadn't really disappeared into their shadows as King Robert would have wanted it. Despite having been asked – forced – to hand over Lordship duties to his son, Aurane's father was still the one the people looked to if problems arose, all over the Blackwater Bay, they certainly didn't turn to Dragonstone.

Stannis Baratheon was not one of them, he was no islander. 

The Captains of the Royal Fleet didn't really know what to do with their Stormlander Master, eyes often turned to Aurane. And why wouldn't they, he was a Velaryon, bastard or not, his blood held the honor of Old Valyria.

And not those of a Targaryen bastard line.

The tension at court was higher than ever, and Aurane just loved to stir up even more talks, ever since the Lannister had began to fall and everyone and everything had come under close scrutiny. Half the Kingsguard had been let go and there wasn't a day now where a servant or a squire followed, Aurane enjoyed the chaos.

Enjoyed it so much after what these people had done to his family and his friends. 

Unfortunately or maybe even fortunately the gods had something else in their minds for him on this day than playing ghost in the memory of a King he hated. The door of the small council chamber was still firmly shut when a boy of maybe three and ten made his way over to him from a side corridor door. 

Aurane raised an eyebrow at the clearly nervous boy, hand stopping the lazy tick with the apple, he was left patiently waiting for the boy to find his words.

“Ser, I...”

“I'm no Knight, kid.” Aurane interrupted and corrected quickly, pushing a strand of hair out of his face, “It's Captain. Captain Aurane.”  
“Captain Aurane, I was sent by my Master to collect you, he wishes to speak with you.” The boy stammered himself through his words, his simple brown clothing gave nothing away to his status or connection to any House. 

“And who might that be?” Aurane wanted know but pushed himself away from the wall already, it seemed like this council session was dragging on forever and he could still drive King Robert madder on the hunt tomorrow.  
“I was told not to say, the walls have ears. He has asked me to guide you to him.” The boy answered him, eyes looking around, his nerves were badly on edge, Aurane couldn't blame him. King's Landing had become a powder keg with the fuse lit.

With the Queen shamed as it was, waiting out the result of a pregnancy in the hands of the Faith before being sent off to the Silent Sisters in Oldtown, with the Lord of Casterly Rock, that big disgusting lion lord, sitting in the blackest of Black Cells to await his judgement. With Lannister men fleeing left and right, being hunted down by King's men.

The boy led him down the hidden servants' corridors until they reached the inner courtyard and the second his eyes had gotten used to the bright light of the afternoon sun, Aurane's lips flickered up into a smile when he saw the man waiting for him.

Well, this ought to get interesting.

“Lord Varys.”

“Captain Aurane.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked how this little mini fic got handled and how it ended, hope it was a surprise that plot twist. Robert will still sit on the throne though, I am not going to sit a child onto the Iron Throne. Jon will make that decision when he is old enough to really realize what it will entail to fight for his claim.  
> But hey, we've made a first step to be rid of the bad lions for good.  
> See you in a next part!


End file.
